


Into the Woods

by cgreene



Series: Out of the Games [1]
Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Drama, F/M, Friendship, POV Katniss Everdeen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-04-28 23:06:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 81,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5108912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cgreene/pseuds/cgreene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We could do it, you know."<br/>"What?"<br/>"Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it." </p><p>After Katniss returns from the Games, the implications of her actions threaten her and those she loves, and she and Gale finally get the chance to see if they really can make it, after all .</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

During the Games, the only thing I wanted was for it to be over. I would close my eyes, stop for a second, and think: if I can just get through this, everything will be all right.

But I did. And it isn't.

By some miracle I managed to survive the Games, and now, I often find myself wishing that I hadn't.

But I can't tell anyone that. Not my mother or Prim, who are so happy to have me home. Who think we can be a family again.

Not Gale, my best friend. At least I hope I can still call him that. Things have been awkward with him ever since I returned. Even if I could see him a lot, which I can't because he's so busy now working in the mines, I'm not sure he'd want to. I know he didn't watch the Games, but he saw enough. I told him it was only a show, but he knows that isn't true. Because while it may have been an act on my part, it certainly wasn't for Peeta.

And Peeta. Sweet, kind Peeta. I definitely can't tell him. He'd never admit it, but he's thankful for the Games. Thankful because they brought us together. If I could have one thing in the world it would be to go back to a time before I ever knew Peeta Mellark. Before the horror of the Games and the complicated emotions. But if he could have one thing, well, it would be me. And I can hardly face him because of it.

The only thing that keeps me going is knowing how happy and safe my mother and sister are. In our new home, with plenty of room and food. I know they will never want for anything again, and when I think of that, it is enough to keep me going.

I try to keep this in mind as I help them pick out drapes. Nothing in the world could be less important to me now, but they seem so excited, I work hard to keep the smile on my face. They pull out swaths of cloths, sheer yellows, flowery pinks, striped greens. I have absolutely no idea how one is supposed to choose between them. A woman named Ivy, who owns the fabric store, talks us through. She describes the different materials. She tells us what is best and easiest and nicest. I think we must be her best customers for how she's coddling us. Just when I don't think I can listen to her drone on, she pulls out a fine blue fabric. Prim's eyes light up, and I think I can make it through the afternoon.

As the shadows grow longer, my legs are shaking from sitting for so long. It's never been something I've been good at. I twist my hair impatiently to keep myself from screaming. My mother must notice my agitation.

"Which do you prefer, Katniss?" I hear her voice ask.

"Mmmhmm." I agree.

"It wasn't a yes or no question." She says pointedly.

I shoot her a dirty look. But she holds my gaze. She suddenly seems to think I need mothering and is trying to reassert herself as the head of the family. I've decided to humor her as long as she doesn't tell me what to do.

But I put on a smile that would make the Capitol proud. "No, I like the blue best." I say as I stand up. "It will match your eyes, little duck." I walk over to Prim and playfully pinch her little face. It breaks into a smile, and I pick her up and twirl her around. She's heavier than I remember. "Ohh. You're getting so big!" I exclaim.

Prim blushes. "Gale brought us lots of food." I put her down and hold her small face in my hands since I don't know what to say. I lean my forehead against hers, and she pecks me on the check.

"I'm very glad to hear that."

"Yeah," she smiles, "Gale is great." Her smile fades as she looks at me. "When is he coming by to visit?"

"Gale's got to work now, in the mines," I tell her.

Her eyes get bright again. "Mom!" she squeaks with excitement. "I've got a great idea."

There's such a look of amusement on my mother's face I almost don't recognize her. "Of course, Prim, what is it?"

Prim walks over to my mom, "Can we invite Gale over for the Parcel Day Dinner?"

My mother laughs and takes Prim in her lap. "Why, I think that's a great idea. Katniss, why don't you go over to the Hawthorne's house and tell Hazelle. I think Prim and I can finish choosing the curtains."

I don't like being ordered around, but I'm happy for the exit so I don't argue.

I'm hardly out the door when I see Haymitch sauntering across the lawn. He's got a bag clinking at his side, and I don't have to guess what's in it.

"Forget to buy food?" I quip.

"Nah." He pats his belly, "I ate enough in the Capitol to get me through the year." I cringe to think that they throw away more food in a day than most people in Seam see in a year. "This is what I need to get me to the Capitol next year." He holds up the bottles. "Where are you off to, sweetheart?"

"I'm inviting the Hawthornes over for the Parcel Day Dinner," I say before I can think to lie.

"Ohh. Dinner at your house?" He says through a grin. "Great. I'll tell Peeta!"

Oh no, I think. This is just what I need. Dinner with Gale and Peeta.

* * *

 

"Thank god we got the curtains in before the dinner," my mother says as she stands back and assesses the room. She's spent the better part of a week buying things and filling the house with objects we couldn't possibly need.

"What do you think of the new kettle, Katniss?" She asked me a day or two ago.

"We boiled water in a pot for years," I returned coldly. "I don't see what we need a kettle for."

Prim is setting the table. Our mother tried to ask me help get the house and order, but I snapped at her.

"I'm the reason we get to have this stupid Parcel Day Dinner in the first place! Haven't I done enough?"

Prim looked a little shocked, and perhaps I was harsh, but I don't care. It's all I can do to keep from ripping the curtains from the window, so I go in the back to calm down. Prim tells me my mother only wants to make the place feel homey. So we can have a nice house. A new start. But all this talk of curtains and cushions reminds me of the Capitol and makes my skin crawl. But how can I say that to my mother when she's actually trying for the first time in years?

I lean my head against the post on the porch and take a deep breath. I don't know how I'm going to make through the night. Both Gale and Peeta have been invited. I've had a hard enough time facing either of them separately in the few weeks that I've been back. But together? I'm seriously considering hanging myself with the curtains when I jump. It's the door bell, but we've never had one before and every time someone rings it, I jump in fright. I'm not sure I'll ever get used to it and wonder if there's some way to turn it off. The stupid thing sounds again when my mother calls.

"Katniss, someone's at the door. Can you let them in?"

I take my sweet time as I scoot my feet down the hall and to the door. When I open it, I see Haymitch looking a little happier than usual.

"I brought the alcohol!" he says, lifting up a few bottles of wine with a cheery smile on his face.

"Haymitch," I reproach, "you're the only one who drinks."

"Isn't Peeta and his family coming?"

I nod. "But they don't drink."

"And your handsome cousin and his?"

I nod again. "But they don't drink either."

"Are you sure I'm the only one who'll want to drink?" His lips twist into a bemused smile as realization dawns on my face. He pulls a small bottle out of his bag and hands it to me, slyly touching his nose as to say it's our secret.

Oh, Haymitch, I think fondly, Where would I be without you?

My mother welcomes Haymitch into the front room and it occurs to me they've never actually met before. I realize there is no point in introducing them and let them figure their own way into conversation.

"Yeah," I hear him say as I leave the room, "the curtains are lovely."

I wander into the kitchen to see if Prim needs any help with the food. Everything smells delicious. A large turkey is roasting in the over, almost finished by the looks of it. There are several large bowls filled with mashed potatoes, green beans, spiced corn.

"Do you want me to carry this out to the table?" I ask her.

"Oh, that would be lovely. Thank you, Katniss."

When I've relocated all the vegetables, I go and sit by Haymitch on the couch.

"Lovely cushions," he tells me stroking one of my mother's newest pillows.

"Oh shut up," I spit at him.

He laughs and passes me his flask. I take a sip and pass it back. The liquid is horrible and burns and I can't imagine how he drinks so much of that stuff.

We both jerk as the door bell buzzes again. "You haven't done anything about that yet?"

"It's on my list of things to do."

Prim lets in Hazelle and her youngest children. Rory, Vick, and Posy come crashing in our front room. Prim is suddenly all giggles as she shows them some of her new things. My body tenses as I wait for Gale to walk in, but he doesn't. My whole face must fall because Haymitch hands me the flask again and this time I take a big swig. I get up and am about to walk out of the room when Hazelle grabs me and hugs me.

"Thank you so much for having us, Katniss." I look at her like she's speaking another language. "Gale didn't get off of work until late," I hear Hazelle say, "He'll be here in about half an hour. He wanted to shower and get cleaned up before he saw you."

I feel my blood circulate again, my stomach unclenches, I think I'm breathing. I take a moment to understand. "Of course," I tell her with a genuine smile. "We're happy to have you."

Not long after, Peeta and his family file in. His mother is the only one who seems willing to listen to my mother talk about her new decorations, and I think they may have even known each other back when they were kids, living in town. The children are all playing on the floor, making a lot of noise, but it's happy. Peeta sits down next to me and puts his arm around me. I tense up. He senses it and relaxes.

"Are you okay?" He's developed this annoying habit of always asking me if I'm okay, and it's seriously making me wonder if he's forgotten somehow that we just came back from the Hunger Games.

"I'm just fine and dandy." I respond snidely, and he looks at me concerned. That's another annoying habit of his. He's always concerned. "I'm fine," I repeat, emphasizing the last word and patting his leg, hoping he'll believe me.

Things have been highly awkward between Peeta and me since we've returned. Some days, he so nice to me I think I could really like him. And other days, he's so nice to me, I think I'd really like to choke him. I know I hurt his feelings when I told him that my affections were only an act in the Games. He tells me he knows there is more between us. I want to tell him there is nothing more than bad memories. I tell him I want to forget, and he says we can't forget everything. At this point in the conversation he usually tries to stroke my hair or caress my face, but I turn away. He tells me I just need time. I tell him I need space. And that's where we are right now, with him waiting and me avoiding.

I get up and take another swig from the bottle Haymitch gave me. I nearly drop it when the door buzzes again. That damn door bell. My irritation only last until I realize who must be standing behind the door. My body tenses and my heart starts to race. We haven't really had a chance to speak since I've been back. We saw each other once, right when I returned. He hugged me, and I promised to meet him in the woods that Sunday, but then I couldn't because I had to take photos with the mayor. I told Prim to run to the Hawthorne house and give Hazelle a note, telling Gale I couldn't make it. I never got a response. And the few times I've had occasion to go over to his house, he's been gone, working in the mines. I didn't realize how badly I wanted to see him until I saw him standing there, outside my door.

"That must get really annoying," he says about the bell, a familiar smile on his face.

"Yeah, its days are numbered." I fall into his arms. He holds me, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like everything will be all right.


	2. Chapter Two

I don't know how long we stood there. My head was pressed tightly in to his chest, and I was listening to the strong beat of his heart when it occurs to me I should let go. I will my muscles to release, but I can't make them move. He smells of soap and coal and pine and it makes me feel safe. 

"I can't let go," I mumble into his shirt. His arms tighten around me.

"You don't ever have to," he says, holding my head against him, "not again."

I focus on the sound of his heart and the strength of his arms. Nothing else matters.

"Hem, hem," someone has cleared their throat. I look up. Peeta stands in the door way wearing a strange look on his face, not quite of disapproval, not exactly jealousy.

Gale's my best friend, I want to say. But I shouldn't have to defend myself.

"Dinner's just about ready," he says, turning curtly and walking away.

"Think you're ready to let go?" Gale asks, stroking my hair. I nod, and slowly loosen my arms. Gale follows my lead, though he lets his hands trace down my back and along my arms so we are holding hands as I take a step back.

I look up, almost ashamed to catch his eyes. "I was afraid you wouldn't come."

"Free food's pretty hard to resist." I'd forgotten how Gale could always make me laugh.

"Thank you," I say, trying to keep the tears from running down my cheeks.

"For what?"

"Everything." And he squeezes my hand reassuringly as we turn to walk in the door.

We take our seats at the table, and luckily the food was ready so we are able to avoid any awkward conversation. Peeta's family brought fresh, steaming bread that is passed around as I sliced the turkey. Gale helps the children scoop vegetables onto their plates. The food is excellent, but the best part is listening to the children squeal in excitement when they realize they can have seconds. When my mother told Posy she could have another spoonful of potatoes, her little face was taken over by wide eyes and a beaming smile, and she looked down at the smile pile of potatoes like it was the greatest treasure in the world.

Bowls are passed from hand to hand as plates are emptied and filled. We are all lost in a delicious silence.

Maybe it was all worth it, I think in that moment, looking around to see the children giggling and play-fighting over bread. Peeta's father talking to my mother about recipes as Mrs. Mellark pushes her empty glass towards Haymitch, eyeing his wine. He chuckles as he uncorks the bottle to fill it. Prim gushing to Gale about everything he's missed in the few weeks since they'd last spoken. Gale (pretending?) to be interested.

I forgot how good Gale was with children. It was natural, of course, him having so many younger siblings. He not only was their main source of sustenance, but of entertainment too. And I'll never know where he found the energy to be both. The solemn young man I knew in the woods, brow fret with worry, gaze clouded with concern, and eyes often angry, is nowhere to be found when with his family. Tonight, he makes silly faces and tickles Posy until she squirms. He taunts Vick by stealing his bread when not looking and stuffing the whole thing into his mouth.

"What?" I question when I realized my mother was looking at me. Did she want me to start cleaning up the table or something?

"Nothing," she says, shaking her head. "You're just smiling. You haven't done that in a long time. It's nice."

I usually say something snarky or snap at my mother when she talks to me. But she looked at me so fondly, I felt for the first time that maybe she really did care. "It is," I agree.

"Now that was good food." Peeta says, as the sound of scraping spoons was replaced by silence. Many mumble their accordance.

“Yeah it was!” Haymitch enthusiastically agrees and unbuttons the top of his pants. Mrs. Mellark looks away, horrified. 

"Did you catch that turkey, Katniss?" Gale asks, “or was it you, Prim?” She beams as he looks at her. 

“Is that a serious question?” I almost chuckle and say dismissively and take another sip of wine. I assume this is a joke I don’t quite get, but Prim’s eyes meet mine and I realize she doesn’t think this is funny. 

“Gale taught me how to hunt.” 

“He what?” My smile fades. 

Gale must sense my anger before anyone else does. “I only took her out a few times and—” 

“Out where?” My tone is no less forgiving. 

“To the woods, Katniss.” Prim’s looking me directly in the eyes. Her tone is almost condescending. “Because I asked him to.”

A feel a fire start to build inside of me. I don’t understand what is going on, and it makes me upset. I don’t think and just start to spew my anger. “You took my sister out in the woods? God, Gale! What were you thinking?! You said you’d keep my family safe and you take her to the second most dangerous place in Panem! Anything could have happened!”

“Come on, Catnip.” Gale has to work to compose himself. He reflects for a moment, probably considering whether he wants to provoke of placate me. I hope he chooses the former. “She was safe. And I only showed her the basics.”

He doesn’t. And for some reason, that upsets me more. “It’s dangerous, Gale!” 

“Really? We’ve been going out there since you were that age, and she was with me the whole time.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Then what is the point, Katniss?” 

I open my mouth to challenge him. He doesn’t understand why I’m angry when he put the life of my sister in jeopardy, when I was off risking my life save hers, by taking her out into the woods, into our woods? I feel betrayed and replaced. “It’s no place for a child, Gale.”

“I’m not a child.”

My head snaps in Prim’s direction. I’d almost forgotten she was in the room. “What?”

“I’m not a child.” Her words fell heavy like bricks. Her tone is final and commanding. This is not a side of Prim I’d seen before. I start to realize she’s not the same little girl I went off to protect less than a year before. I can feel my chest heaving as I consider my response. I want to make Prim realize how naïve she’s being, how reckless and stupid. I want to scream a Gale for endangering her. I try to calm myself, to recollect.

“Damn, this one’s got spunk too!” Haymitch says excitedly, pointing at Prim with his fork. “I like it!” 

We both glare at him. The anger in the room is palpable, and I don’t think anyone else in the room could have stood it. But Haymitch had either become accustomed to my fury or was too drunk to notice our rage. 

“Well, next time either or you young ladies is out hunting,” his hand sloppily gestures to the two of us with his fork. “Remember that I prefer goose to turkey.”

Is he serious? I’m about to yell at him when I realize what he’s doing. He’s trying to diffuse the situation. 

I look around the table and realize everyone is uneasy. Peeta looks nervous; he was probably trying to think of a way to intervene before Haymitch did. Hazelle and her youngest look tense. Gale looks drained. Peeta’s mother looks bored. Mine embarrassed. And Prim looks furious. I can’t believe this. I’m about to ask what is wrong with everyone when Posy pipes up. 

“You’re silly,” she says to Haymitch. 

“What?” A look of confusion wrinkles his brow.

"You're silly," she repeats. And Haymitch looks at her sternly for a moment, then crosses his eyes and she dissolves into giggles. I miss my moment. 

Mrs. Mellark seemed to think this was inappropriate or not worth her time, but everyone else joined in and laughed, lightening the moment, though some did so less easily than others. Mrs. Mellark thanks us politely for the food and says to her husband and Peeta that it was time to leave the first opportunity she got. She seems to be in a hurry to get home. Her husband doesn't argue, but Peeta says he wants to stay and help us clean. Haymitch has moved over to the couch and opens his third bottle, and the children jump at Gale to play with them. He stares a me for a few moments before he agrees and is lost as several tiny pairs of hands go after him. My mother and Prim get up to clear off the table, and Peeta asks what he can do to help.

“Oh, you don’t have to do anything, dear,” my mother insists. “Katniss and I can do it.” 

My eyes dart up to hers antagonizingly. I wasn’t planning on doing any helping, but she doesn’t look away. “Whatever,” I say as I push out of my chair, snatching the dishes from Prim’s hands. “Why don’t you go play?”

“Because I’m not a child.” She repeats with the same severity. If anyone other than Prim had challenged me like that, I would have already taken their head off. I can’t help but suspect that she knows that, and I’m about to put her in her place when my mother steps in. 

“Katniss, kitchen.” Her eyes are steely and don’t release me. 

“Are you serious?” My voice is something between a laugh and a bark. Who do they think they are to talk to me this way? “I can’t believe what’s going on in this house right now. Is everyone mad? Or is it just me?”

“It’s just you.” Prim says in an instant. 

My muscles move involuntarily, out of reaction, and I seriously think I might take a swing at her.

“Katniss!” I don’t even recognize that as my mother’s voice. It strange and strong and frightening. All the eyes in the room are on us again.

“These women!” Haymitch caws, “Haha! I love these women!” He’s clearly the only one who finds any of this funny. My mother’s gaze is relentless, and Peeta takes the moment to put his hand on Prim’s arm and gestures that they go into the living room where everyone else is. She looks at him and silently agrees. Without even glancing back at me, takes a seat next to Haymitch. 

I disappear into the kitchen. I hear the door shut behind me. 

“I can’t believe you---” I spit at my mother, sounding more wounded than I mean to. 

“Enough, Katniss.” Her voice is calm and even. 

“What else did you let her do while I was away?”

“Katniss, enough.” I should sense the rising anger in her tone, but don’t. 

“I mean, seriously woman, what were you thinking? You let her—” 

This time it’s not my mother’s words that interrupt me, but her hand. She’s slapped me square across the face and it stings. I’m so shocked, I lose my train of thought. My hand flies to my burning cheek. 

“Look,” she says, her calm and even tone returned. “I know that I don’t know how hard being in those Games was, so I’ve let you do what you need to get by, whether it’s disappearing in the night to do God only knows what or rifling through my medical supplies to steal alcohol and sleep serum.” I gulp uncomfortably when she says this. I didn’t know she knew. “But you need to remember you aren’t the only one who suffered.” She reaches a finger up to wipe a tear from my eye but I jerk away. “Katniss, you don’t know how eager she was, how determined…She watched you sacrifice yourself in a heartbeat for her and it…it inspired her. She wants to be like you, Katniss, don’t you realize? How she watches you? How she studies you? To be brave, strong, fearless…” I take a step back, hardly comprehending what I’m hearing. “And I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s such a bad thing,” she says, respecting my distance. “But I think this attitude of yours is one trait of yours she doesn’t need to pick up on, ok?” 

I think I nod in agreement. My mother wipes her hands on her apron and leaves the room. As the doors slides open, the sounds of screams and giggles flush into the dark, empty room from the living area where the kids are all playing with Gale. For an instant, I see a flash of happy faces. The children chase him around, kicking him, grabbing at him, hopping all over him in an effort to paralyze him. I watch as Vick and Rory sit on both his feet as Posy trying to climb, grabbing and squashing his face. Gale teases them, making slow movements and pretending like it's really hard to move. Then using his strong arms, he plucks them off and starts to run away. They all looked to be having so much fun before the doors close and they disappear. 

I listen to the laughter and excited shrieks as I clean the plates in the kitchen alone in the dark.

“Can I help?” It’s Peeta. 

“I can do it.” 

But Peeta insists on helping me, and the room grows tense as he steps over. He always wants to talk whenever we're together, and I'm not really sure what else I have to say.

“Are you okay?”

No. Obviously, I’m not okay. “I’m fine.”

“Here, let me.” He takes one of the plates I’m drying from my hands, but I hold on to it firmly.

“I can do it.” Our eyes lock as we pull either side of the plate. Peeta’s eyes are filled with sympathy and he doesn’t let go. “Damn it, Peeta, why won’t you let go!” 

“Katniss…” He still doesn’t let go. 

“Fine.” I let go of my end and the plate tumbles from his soapy hand onto the floor. I’m out the back door before I can even hear it crash.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm sitting behind a chair in a spare room when realize someone's found me.

"Did they tell you we were playing hide and seek?"

I'm relieved it's not Peeta as I look up to see Gale. I’m not exactly sure I’m happy to see him either. He joins me on the floor.

“You’re not forgiven.”

“Good,” he says with a faint smile that confuses me, “because I’m not asking for forgiveness.”

Maybe it’s because I’m all out of anger for the night, or maybe it’s because this is what I like most about Gale—how he does what he thinks is right and makes no excuses. For whatever reason I laugh.

He moves closer to me. “Do you want to talk about it?”

"No." I say flatly. But he looks at me, he eyes almost pulling the truth out of me. "I just can't do it Gale. Any of it. I can’t live in this house and not think about what I did to get here. I can’t sleep without being haunted by the Games. And I can’t be with Peeta….He wants to be together so badly. He wants to be happy and I hate him for it. Because I can't be happy. And because to me it's like admitting that everything that happened to us is okay. It's not right what happened, and I don't want it to be!" Something's stirring in my chest now and my voice rises. "I don't want to pretend, and I don't want to lie, and I don't ever want to be grateful for going to the Games. And if I try and love him, then to me, it's like saying that I am. And it makes me sick. So sick sometimes I can barely look at him. Because he thinks he loves me so much. He doesn't even know me!" Gale's expression shifts with his body as he moves to lean his back against the wall so he's sitting next to me. "I don't even know who I am anymore." I finally admit with resignation. "So how can he? But he's so nice and sweet and gentle and caring, and I owe him so much…" Gale puts his arm around me. I lean my head against his shoulder and welcome the closeness.

"You don't owe anyone your heart, Katniss." He only uses my real name when he's serious. But I'm not sure I understand and don't want to think about it anymore.

"But I'm not being fair to him. He's such a nice guy."

"I’m a nice guy," Gale says.

"But you're different Gale. I can be myself around you." He smiles at this. I guess it is a compliment. "But with Peeta..." I don't know how to finish my thought, so I change the subject. "How long are you guys staying here?"

"We're trying to wait out the storm," he explains.

"It's raining?" I hadn't noticed at all.

I feel Gale chuckle. "Yeah. It has been for quite some time." I'm glad he's not leaving anytime soon and scoot closer.

I don't know how long we sat in the corner of that dark room. But the rain didn't seem like it was going to stop.

"Where's everyone else?" I finally ask.

"I think the kids fell asleep in the living room."

"How'd you finally get them to leave you alone?"

"We finished the game. Vick won."

"What exactly is that game?" I ask him. "How do you win?"

"Victory goes to whoever climbs up to my head first."

"Oh," I chuckle.

"Yeah, it was a lot easier when they were all small. It's a Hawthorne family favorite. I used to play it with my dad when I was little..." Gale hardly ever talks about his father. I wait, wondering if he'll add more, but he changes the subject. "Then they begged Haymitch to tell them a story."

"What?" I'm sure the only stories Haymitch knows are not appropriate for children.

Gale senses my concern. "Don't worry. It wasn't that bad. At least, not in that way. It was called The Kingdom of the Rabbitsand was about a magical princess who has to do an angry dance to save her people from an evil toad."

"Sounds awful," I say through a laugh.

"It was. But Haymitch's reenactment of the princess's angry dance was pretty good."

I try to imagine Haymitch hopping around, shaking his limbs to amuse the children and them trilled with laughter. "Oh, poor Haymitch," I say laughing.

"Don't worry," Gale says, "I don't think he'll remember any of it in the morning."

I agree, thinking of all the empty bottles I threw away. "I'm sorry I missed it though." I lean my head back against Gale's chest. "Wait, how did the rabbits fit in?"

"I don't know. He passed out before he got to that part. You know," Gale continues, "I never thought I'd like that man, but he seems all right."

"He is all right," I agree.

We sit in silence for a while longer before we hear someone approach. We quickly separate as my mother pokes her head in the door. She arches her eyebrow but doesn't say anything. "There you two are," she says not pressing it any further. "I don't want Hazelle and the children walking home in this weather. Katniss," she asks, almost cautiously. "Could I get your help making up the beds?"

"Of course," I say, rising quickly. "Where are we going to put everyone?"

"We'll your friend's already claimed the couch…" There is just a hint of annoyance as she says this, and I know she means Haymitch, "but I've decided Hazelle and Posy can share my bed with me and Prim." I know it might seem odd to many, but in the Seam there are entire families that sleep in one bed every night. To women like my mother and Hazelle, it is not out of the usual. "That gives the boys Prim's room. I'm not sure where we'll put Peeta…"

"Peeta's still here?" I'm suddenly wondering what he's been doing the entire time Gale and I sat in the spare room.

"It's raining buckets out there, Katniss, it's only a short walk, but the boy would get drenched."

I wasn't trying to complain and don't know how to explain myself, so I don't respond.

For the first time, I'm thankful my mother spent so much time fussing over sheets and curtains and pillows because we have just enough blankets in the house for everybody. While we were getting everything together, Haymitch got up, scratched his stomach, belched, and walked out into the rain. It looked like he was heading in the direction of his house, so we decided not to worry. And it freed up the couch for Peeta. Not that I really cared because I suspected he only wanted to stay the night because Gale was.

Most of the children were already passed out on the floor of the living room. Gale and his mother scooped them up and put them to bed. Prim yawned, insisting she could last a little longer, but my mother shooed her off as well. I realized that Peeta and I were the only two left downstairs.

"Will you be comfortable enough on the couch?"

"I think so," he responds coolly.

"Good," I couldn't think of anything else to say, "Well, good night," I say, leaving him alone. I feel a little bad, but I just can't deal with Peeta's… I don't even know the word. But I've no patience for it tonight.

Upstairs I walked past my sister's room. Vick was fast asleep, but I stopped to watch Gale try and tuck Rory in, who was complaining about going to bed. Both boys fit in my sister's bed, and I could see Gale only had a pillow and few blankets on the floor to make himself comfortable.

"Now Rory," Gale says, and only after years of knowing him, do I detect the hint of annoyance in his voice. "You have to be quiet so that everyone else can go to sleep." He wrestles his younger brother into the bed, pulling the covers up to his chin.

"But I don't want to!" Rory protests, trying to lift his head. Gale effortlessly pushes him back down so Rory can't move. He grunts frustratedly, but Gale is unmovable. "Why do I have to listen to you anyway?" Rory pouts.

"Because I'm bigger than you are," Gale say sternly.

I turn and start walking towards my room as I hear Rory mummer, "Okay, okay," in defeat.

I touch my hand to my lips to make sure I'm really smiling, and as I climb in my bed, thinking of all the good people in my house, with full stomachs and happy smiles. Things might not be so bad after all.

* * *

 

I raise my bow to take perfect aim. A large deer is standing only a few yards away from me in a green clearing. It's almost too easy a shot. I narrow my eyes and release my arrow. Not even a second later, the animal falls breathlessly. I skip happily over to the clearing, thinking this will be enough food for my family, and Gale's, for the next few weeks. I can probably use certain parts to make good trades at the Hob as well and try and list what supplies I need most. But as I approach the clearing, it's not the body of a deer on the ground, but that of a boy. I run over and turn him over, heart racing. I see Peeta, fist closed around my bloody arrow. Oh no, I think, what have I done? I frantically look around for something to stop the bleeding.

"It will be okay, Peeta." I try to keep my voice calm and sound reassuring. "It'll be okay."

But Peeta's lips form a snarl. "Liar!" he screams, pushing me away. He transforms into a mutt, like the ones at the end of the Games. He's got the body of a dog, but more than just his eyes remain human, it's almost his whole face. He's got a wolf's teeth though, and he bites after me. I try to run and scream, but every time I look back, his blue eyes burn me and through his sharp, bloody teeth, he screams, "LIAR!"

"No, no," I whimper.

"Katniss," Someone calls my name.

"No," I struggle.

"Katniss!" I open my eyes. Gale is sitting on the side of my bed but I haven't shaken the panic from my dream.

"Don't hurt me!" I plead, still unsure of where I am.

"Hey," he says calmly, tentatively reaching out to comfort me, but I jerk away. "Hey, I'm not going to hurt you," he continues soothingly. "It will be all right."

I focus on his eyes and try to calm my breathing. "Gale," I finally manage. I'm not sure if it's a question. I think his name over and over again until I remember who is his and believe that he won't hurt me.

"I'm here." He sits next to me and I practically crawl in his lap. He begins to rock me back and forth and traces small circles on my back. It calms me.

"He was trying to kill me, Gale."

"I won't let him hurt you."

"How can you be certain?"

"Anyone ever wants to hurt you again, they'll have to go through me first. I promise."

And as he cradles me and I listen to that strong beat of his heart, I realize that I believe him. "Gale?" I look up at him urgently.

"Yeah?" he responds in a whisper.

"Do you have to work in the mines every day?"

"Not on Sundays."

"Do you think we can go hunting this Sunday?"

"I'd love to."

I mumble my happiness as I fall back asleep listening to his heart.


	4. Chapter 4

I find myself getting through the weeks that follow. Things get easier with my mother and Prim, though I have to fight to control my outbursts and sometimes have to take long walks through the town to get away. People look at me strangely, but this isn't exactly new. I visit my friend Madge on occasion because it's nice to listen to someone else talk about their problems, even if they are all about boys. And because she doesn't ask me about the Games. Ever. Sometimes Peeta comes over to visit. Sometimes it's okay, and we do puzzles or watch films. Sometimes it isn't, and I tell him I have to go to the bathroom and escape through the window and don't come back until after dark.

But the only thing I look forward to is hunting in the woods with Gale. Sunday is our day. We pull through the rest of the week to get to this day and live. Something about the clean air and space. We both seem more relaxed out there. At peace, perhaps you could say, though I'm not sure it's the right word. Sometimes, when I look at him, I forget about all the horrors of the past few months. There are moments when our eyes lock, and the whole world falls away, and I think everything is right. But then I remember that it isn't. That I was taken from my family and forced to fight in the Games. Forced to kill, forced to be in love, and forced to live with it for the rest of my life. When I get tangled in thoughts like these, I think about being in the woods with Gale.

But it is almost time for the Victory Tour. The Tour is another cruel part in the Capitol's plan to remind us we are all at their mercy. A few months after the Games, the winner, or in this case, winners, are paraded around all of Panem to celebrate, at least that's the word the Capitol uses, their triumph. But it's really a reminder of the Capitol's power. For most, the painful reminder that they can take and kill your children at any time and there is nothing you can do about it. And for the rest, the unlucky few who survive the Games, it's a reminder that your life is now theirs.

I try to think about the Tour as little as possible. I want to talk about it to Gale, but I can see the long hours at the mines are starting to wear on him. He never complains, but I notice the dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. The fatigue in his muscles, the pain in his back. It's not fair to pressure him more. The woods are our place of escape. He doesn't burden me with his problems, so I try and return the favor. But as the weeks pass by, the topic is no longer avoidable.

"You know I'm not going to be able to go hunting with you next weekend, right?" I tell Gale one day. He doesn't answer and looks straight ahead, body tense and eyes burning. "The Victory Tour is about to start. I'll be gone for a while, so…" I don't finish my sentence, but we both know what it means.

It means it's time for me to start pretending again.

It is two days before the Tour, and Haymitch has called a meeting at his house. It is only few minutes away from mine now that he, Peeta, and I all live in Victor's Village, but it takes me over ten minutes to walk there. I don't want to go. I know exactly what he's going to tell me—to remember to act like I'm in love.

The only reason Peeta and I both survived the Games was by making everyone believe we were truly and deeply in love. As the last two survivors, we threatened suicide instead of sacrificing one of ourselves. However, some interpreted this as an act of defiance. An act, it turned out, that was inspiring others to defy as well. It was imperative that we pull off this charade, convince the world that we were not revolutionaries, but foolish love birds, ignorant of the big picture.

I sit through Haymitch's speech, nod, and promise I'll behave.

"You've got to do more than behave, sweetheart. You've got to sell it." He warns me.

Peeta is smiling. He probably finds my ire attractive or something.

"What?" I dare him.

"If you just wouldn't be so stubborn."

"I'm not being stubborn!" He's set me off. "Just because I don't want to be their slave doesn't mean I'm being a petulant child. They don't have the right to tell me what to do!"

"Yes, they do." Haymitch cuts me off with a cold stare. There is an anger in his eyes I've never seen before. It reminds me that he is a killer. "You volunteered for this game. You chose to go, you chose to win, and you chose to let Peeta here win with you. And you risked all of us when you pulled that little stunt. So I don't want to hear that you don't want to play anymore. Do you understand?"

I want to punch him, but he holds my stare and I relent. "Yes."

"I didn't catch that." He's mocking me.

"Yes," I repeat, loud and clear.

"Good. Because we're all counting on you." He tells me.

As angry as I am with Haymitch for ridiculing me, I am surprised by his urgency. He was scared. Somebody must have threatened him because it isn't easy to scare Haymitch Abernathy. I wonder who it was and what they said.

"I promise," I say, looking straight into his eyes, "I can do this."

"Good," he took a swig from his bottle, and looked over at Peeta who he'd ignored through most of the meeting, "And you…just…try not to piss her off."

I smiled slightly, grateful that Haymitch understands me so well. But when I looked over at Peeta, it was clear he didn't.

I suspected that Peeta was looking forward to the Tour, and these suspicions were confirmed during out conversation outside Haymitch's house.

"Come on, Katniss, it won't be so bad."

I could feel the anger stirring inside my chest. "How can you say that?" I accuse him, "They are going dress us up like dolls and parade us around. We're puppets, Peeta! Part of their sick game!"

"Yes, but…" He interrupts. I know what Peeta is thinking. But we'll be together. I give him a look, daring him to say it. Thankfully, he doesn't. But that doesn't change the fact that he believes it. Peeta doesn't care about the Capitol's game. He doesn't care about their threats or their power. As he looks at me, I am reminded that all he cares about is us being together. And I pity him because nothing is less important to me in this world. "Soon this will all be over." He means it as a comfort.

"And what then, Peeta? What then? We'll never be allowed to forget!"

"Then we have to find something good in it, Katniss. To make it worth remembering." Peeta looks at me tenderly and reaches out, but I push his arms away.

"I don't want to do that." I could see my words hurt him, but I didn't know how to show I cared. "I'm sorry, Peeta. I'm not angry with you."

"I know."

"I just…I hate this all. Very much. I just wish we didn't have to..." I stop, looking for the right word, "pretend."

"Me too," Peeta says, looking at me brightly.

But I don't think he realizes we meant two entirely differently things.


	5. Chapter 5

District 11 was the first stop on the tour, and it amazed me how different it was from home. Wide open fields full of food. High, electric fences heavily guarded. As I peered out my window from the train, I wondered where it all ended.

Our fashion teams came to meet us to get us ready for the night's dinner and speech. I had a hard time masking my dread, even though Effie told me scowling wasn't polite at lunch. My team spent a few hours on me, scraping and sanding my body until it was clean. Ripping every hair from its follicle. And fussing at me for not taking better care of myself.

"What have you been doing to yourself, Katniss?" They asked.

Cinna was the first person to make me smile. "If it isn't the most popular girl in the Capitol," he says with outstretched arms.

"They only like me because they don't know me," I reply in something between a growl and a scoff.

"Tut tut," he chides, "you can't believe that's true."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, Katniss. As much as I'd like to take all the credit, my amazing outfits aren't the only reason the country's taken with you. Your strength, your sacrifice, and your fashion sense…" This is when I finally break out my smile. "There she is."

"And she's in trouble," I tell him.

"You'll find a way to show your power, of that I have no doubt," and he reassuringly rubs my arms, "but in the meantime, let's get you ready for this celebration tonight. There are a lot of expectations."

Whatever the expectations were, I'm certain I disappointed. After I exploded at Peeta for not caring about the Capitol's tyranny, he attempted throughout the tour to prove that he did. This was especially disastrous in District 11 where he promised Thresh and Rue's families that he would share his winnings with them. The people of District 11 cheered and were promptly killed.

I spent the whole night crying. Peeta came in to talk to me. I wanted to yell at him. Tell him he was stupid. Did he not realize how cruel the Capitol really was? Did he not think how they would interpret his act? Not as one of compassion, but of rebellion? What was he thinking? We were already in so much danger! But he didn't know that. And when I looked at him, I knew exactly what he was thinking: he was thinking of impressing me. I wanted to blame him, but only to avoid my own guilty feelings. Peeta didn't know the extent of the Capitol's deception. He didn't know because I didn't tell him. I wanted to protect him from their evil because, despite all of Peeta's shortcomings, he was a sweet, kind boy who didn't need that worry in his life. I couldn't do much for Peeta, but I could protect him from this.

He sat next to me on my bed, and put his arms around me. I'm not sure if I am comforting him or he me, but he holds me why I cry and I think his arms are the only things keeping me from completely falling apart. When I finally stop crying, he gets up to leave.

"Don't go…" my voice shakes, "please." I'm ready to be alone, not yet, not when I can still hear the guns shots and screams.

He looks back, head cocked in confusion, but nods and comes back to my bed where I let him curl around me like a question mark and hold me, not caring that it's wrong.

When I woke up, Peeta was still lying next to me. I tried not to wake him, but his eyes shot open as I moved. "Sleep well?" I asked.

He nodded. "It's always a good night if I'm with you."

God, Peeta, I thought, don't try so hard. But he looked so happy, I didn't say anything.

We had a pleasant talk over breakfast. And I was surprised when Peeta wanted to talk about a plan for our next stops, "so the same thing doesn't happen again."

"Yeah," Haymitch said, pouring brandy into his coffee, "that'd be a good idea." And they began making plans.

When we arrived at District 10, Peeta shone. He took all of Haymitch's advice, and the crowd played right into his hands. He was funny, likable, sweet, sincere. He made the crowd laugh and sigh. All I had to do was stand next to him, lean my head on his shoulder, look up at him fondly. And we followed through the other nine districts to the Capitol.

I can't say the Victory Tour was exactly a success, but, at least no one else was shot after 11, and everyone continued to believe that Peeta and I were still madly in love…including Peeta, I fear.

He came into my cabin every night to talk…and cuddle. He kept me from getting too worked up or angry about the things we had to say and do. He held me when I cried and calmed me after I had nightmares. I hate to admit it, but I don't know how I would have survived the tour without him. He did all the work, and I realized that he was in his own way, protecting me.

But I wasn't being fair to him. Peeta could be such a great comfort when I needed him, and such a chore when I didn't. I know what he wants from me, and I also know I can't give it to him. At least not now, for so many reasons, not the least of which is that the Capitol is telling me to. Also, because I don't know if I'll ever be able to separate him from all the negative emotions that surround the Capitol and the Games. There is so much hate and sadness, shame and regret. Sometimes just looking at him is enough to make me want to scream or cry. And I feel even worse because I know it's not fair to him.

That poor, perfect boy with the bread who has the horrible misfortune of falling in love with a mess like me.

I hope he knows how thankful I am, and how sorry I am I can't be better for him. I know Peeta wants more from me, but I also know that he deserves better. I could never give him what he wants. Peeta doesn't see it, will never admit it, but I know my heart it is true. And soon, I'm going to have to make him see it.

These are the thoughts that haunt me as we approach the Capitol.

* * *

 

When we arrive at the Capitol, I am surprised to see so many cheering fans. People are screaming my name, tossing flowers at me. Someone even asks for my autograph. Peeta is eating the attention up, of course, and the people love him. He knows when to wave and strike a pose. The whole thing puts me in a stupor though. I see my face everywhere. On billboards and t-shirts. It's so unreal.

"Hey, look at us!" Peeta exclaims, pointing up. Holographic images of us kissing are displayed on the sides of buildings and I look so happy, it makes me sick, though he seems generally amused.

We are lead to our rooms by a small girl with purple hair and eyes who tells me that my "quaint" hair style is now in vogue. Cinna winks at me as I roll my eyes. Once we are settled, Effie finds us to tell us we have few hours before the show. I'm about to go find my stylists when a yellow girl, yellow everything from her skin to her hair, finds me.

"Miss Everdeen?" she says with a peeping voice. I wheel around, caught off guard. "Could you come with me please? President Snow would like to see you."

My heart falls to me feet and my throat is suddenly so dry I can't respond. I barely manage a nod as I follow her. A million thoughts race through my mind and I suddenly remember Haymitch's warning. I think of a hundred things I could have done better over the past weeks. Brighter things I could have said, bigger smiles, better stories…

She takes me to and underground shuttle and we arrive in a black hallway with no windows. We don't pass anyone as I'm led to a plush, royal colored room. The furniture is heavy looking and old, though not worn, like it's from a history book or something. Large bookshelves line the walls and a huge, many-paned window looks out on a garden. The golden girl tells me nothing more than "wait here," so I stare out at the flowers until he finds me.

"Miss Everdeen," his voice is as cold as his name and the words slip out of his pursed lips, "what a pleasure it is to have you back in the Capitol." He lingers on the last word, saying each syllable separately, slowly, perhaps out of some sort of reverence. It makes my skin crawl, but I manage to force a smile as Snow comes near me.

I try to keep up the pretense. "Thank you for having me."

"You're so popular here in the Capitol. Everyone thinks you're so charming. I've even noticed some of the girls wearing your hair." He flicks my braid as he circles me. "But in the Districts, however, I'm afraid you're popular for entirely different reasons…" His lips crack into a red smile, and he reminds me of an animal that's just slaughtered and eaten its prey.

"They bought it," I assure him.

"Oh, of course that's what you think, dearie," he condescends, "and I want so very much to believe you, if it weren't for that ever-so handsome cousin of yours…"

"Gale's got nothing to do with this."

"Do you really expect me to believe that when you've spent all your weekends in the woods with him?" He twists the word cousin so he knows that I know it a lie. "What I wouldn't have given to have had a boy as handsome as him in the Games last year. He probably would have been as popular as Finnick – "

"Gale's 18. You can't touch him."

"Maybe not in the Games, perhaps, though as you have proven this year, exceptions to certain rules can be made..." He leaves that thought hanging so I have time to feel his full implication. My fists tighten in rage. "But you're probably right, and lucky for you, he's safely tucked away working in those mines right now where, goodness knows, nothing tragic could ever happen to him..."

His meaning does not escape me, and I'm certain I could kill him in this moment, if only I had a weapon. But there is nothing within reach, and I wonder how much damage I could do with my bare hands.

"Listen," I try hard not to sound like I'm pleading, "Peeta and I will be dazzling tonight. There will be no question –"

But he cuts me off. "Why Miss Everdeen, you certainly can't be naive enough to think this is your last appearance?" My question is written across my face. "I don't' doubt your ability to fool everyone for now, my concern, shall we say, is more long term. When you mentor at next year's Hunger Games, for instance, or at the celebrations the year after that? How long do you think you can keep the whole world believing that you are in love?"

I'm so shocked, I have no control over my expression. I'd never thought of this before. I survived the Games, could survive the Tour, but keeping up the charade forever?

Snow's face splits into that sick, lipless smile again as he reached out to stroke my face. I recoil. "Katniss, dearie, you'll be doing this for the rest of your life…Though, on the bright side, one never knows exactly how long that will be."

"Come on, Katniss," Peeta tries to console me. He attempts to hug me, but I can't stop moving. I'm pacing my room like a caged animal about to explode. "Is it really so bad?"

"Is it really so bad?" I throw his words back at him with venom. "He just threatened me, Peeta! He practically promised to kill Gale!"

"I don't think he'll kill Gale…" He again reaches to calm me, but I swat him away. His shushing and petting only piques my rage.

"Don't pretend you even care," I snap.

Peeta actually looks hurt. "Hey," he rebukes, "Gale is your friend –"

"He's more than my friend!" I cut him off. He's my best friend. He's my other half. We know each other's deepest secrets, darkest fears, brightest dreams… "I don't even know who I am without Gale."

But Peeta gives me a reproachful look. He doesn't understand my meaning at all.

"Don't start with that again, Peeta." I quickly dismiss him, not in the mood for that conversation.

"You said there was nothing between you two."

"There's nothing between us, Peeta!" I point between him and me. "It's all a lie! And one we'll have to keep up for the rest of our lives as long as that snake is around." I gesture dramatically to mean Snow.

Peeta looks wounded again, and I can see the full effect our late night cuddling has had. His eyes shine with hope but are cracked with doubt, and I realize I have to put an end to this once and for all. I take a moment to compose myself, try and find a nice way to explain what I mean.

"It's not fair," I begin.

"I know," he quickly interjects.

"It's not fair to you," I emphasize. "You deserve better, Peeta."

"But I want you." I shake my head as he says this, wondering what I can do to make him realize.

"No, Peeta. You want us, and –"

"I want us to be happy," he asserts. "Is that really so bad?"

"No, Peeta, it's beautiful. But it isn't what I want." I take his hands and look him in the eyes. I take a few breaths to calm down so my voice sounds confident and strong…certain. "I don't want a happily ever after, Peeta. I don't even want an after. I just want an end."

Peeta recoils, and I think my words have frightened him. He searches my eyes, looking for a small scrape of doubt to cling to, hoping he can somehow dismiss me again. I don't back down. I mean every syllable I say.

"I want to see it all end," I repeat, "and I will do everything in my power to make that happen."


	6. Chapter 6

District 11 was the first stop on the tour, and it amazed me how different it was from home. Wide open fields full of food. High, electric fences heavily guarded. As I peered out my window from the train, I wondered where it all ended.

Our fashion teams came to meet us to get us ready for the night's dinner and speech. I had a hard time masking my dread, even though Effie told me scowling wasn't polite at lunch. My team spent a few hours on me, scraping and sanding my body until it was clean. Ripping every hair from its follicle. And fussing at me for not taking better care of myself.

"What have you been doing to yourself, Katniss?" They asked.

Cinna was the first person to make me smile. "If it isn't the most popular girl in the Capitol," he says with outstretched arms.

"They only like me because they don't know me," I reply in something between a growl and a scoff.

"Tut tut," he chides, "you can't believe that's true."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, Katniss. As much as I'd like to take all the credit, my amazing outfits aren't the only reason the country's taken with you. Your strength, your sacrifice, and your fashion sense..." This is when I finally break out my smile. "There she is."

"And she's in trouble," I tell him.

"You'll find a way to show your power, of that I have no doubt," and he reassuringly rubs my arms, "but in the meantime, let's get you ready for this celebration tonight. There are a lot of expectations."

Whatever the expectations were, I'm certain I disappointed. After I exploded at Peeta for not caring about the Capitol's tyranny, he attempted throughout the tour to prove that he did. This was especially disastrous in District 11 where he promised Thresh and Rue's families that he would share his winnings with them. The people of District 11 cheered and were promptly killed.

I spent the whole night crying. Peeta came in to talk to me. I wanted to yell at him. Tell him he was stupid. Did he not realize how cruel the Capitol really was? Did he not think how they would interpret his act? Not as one of compassion, but of rebellion? What was he thinking? We were already in so much danger! But he didn't know that. And when I looked at him, I knew exactly what he was thinking: he was thinking of impressing me. I wanted to blame him, but only to avoid my own guilty feelings. Peeta didn't know the extent of the Capitol's deception. He didn't know because I didn't tell him. I wanted to protect him from their evil because, despite all of Peeta's shortcomings, he was a sweet, kind boy who didn't need that worry in his life. I couldn't do much for Peeta, but I could protect him from this.

He sat next to me on my bed, and put his arms around me. I'm not sure if I am comforting him or he me, but he holds me why I cry and I think his arms are the only things keeping me from completely falling apart. When I finally stop crying, he gets up to leave.

"Don't go..." my voice shakes, "please." I'm ready to be alone, not yet, not when I can still hear the guns shots and screams.

He looks back, head cocked in confusion, but nods and comes back to my bed where I let him curl around me like a question mark and hold me, not caring that it's wrong.

When I woke up, Peeta was still lying next to me. I tried not to wake him, but his eyes shot open as I moved. "Sleep well?" I asked.

He nodded. "It's always a good night if I'm with you."

God, Peeta, I thought, don't try so hard. But he looked so happy, I didn't say anything.

We had a pleasant talk over breakfast. And I was surprised when Peeta wanted to talk about a plan for our next stops, "so the same thing doesn't happen again."

"Yeah," Haymitch said, pouring brandy into his coffee, "that'd be a good idea." And they began making plans.

When we arrived at District 10, Peeta shone. He took all of Haymitch's advice, and the crowd played right into his hands. He was funny, likable, sweet, sincere. He made the crowd laugh and sigh. All I had to do was stand next to him, lean my head on his shoulder, look up at him fondly. And we followed through the other nine districts to the Capitol.

I can't say the Victory Tour was exactly a success, but, at least no one else was shot after 11, and everyone continued to believe that Peeta and I were still madly in love...including Peeta, I fear.

He came into my cabin every night to talk...and cuddle. He kept me from getting too worked up or angry about the things we had to say and do. He held me when I cried and calmed me after I had nightmares. I hate to admit it, but I don't know how I would have survived the tour without him. He did all the work, and I realized that he was in his own way, protecting me.

But I wasn't being fair to him. Peeta could be such a great comfort when I needed him, and such a chore when I didn't. I know what he wants from me, and I also know I can't give it to him. At least not now, for so many reasons, not the least of which is that the Capitol is telling me to. Also, because I don't know if I'll ever be able to separate him from all the negative emotions that surround the Capitol and the Games. There is so much hate and sadness, shame and regret. Sometimes just looking at him is enough to make me want to scream or cry. And I feel even worse because I know it's not fair to him.

That poor, perfect boy with the bread who has the horrible misfortune of falling in love with a mess like me.

I hope he knows how thankful I am, and how sorry I am I can't be better for him. I know Peeta wants more from me, but I also know that he deserves better. I could never give him what he wants. Peeta doesn't see it, will never admit it, but I know my heart it is true. And soon, I'm going to have to make him see it.

These are the thoughts that haunt me as we approach the Capitol.

. . .

When we arrive at the Capitol, I am surprised to see so many cheering fans. People are screaming my name, tossing flowers at me. Someone even asks for my autograph. Peeta is eating the attention up, of course, and the people love him. He knows when to wave and strike a pose. The whole thing puts me in a stupor though. I see my face everywhere. On billboards and t-shirts. It's so unreal.

"Hey, look at us!" Peeta exclaims, pointing up. Holographic images of us kissing are displayed on the sides of buildings and I look so happy, it makes me sick, though he seems generally amused.

We are lead to our rooms by a small girl with purple hair and eyes who tells me that my "quaint" hair style is now in vogue. Cinna winks at me as I roll my eyes. Once we are settled, Effie finds us to tell us we have few hours before the show. I'm about to go find my stylists when a yellow girl, yellow everything from her skin to her hair, finds me.

"Miss Everdeen?" she says with a peeping voice. I wheel around, caught off guard. "Could you come with me please? President Snow would like to see you."

My heart falls to me feet and my throat is suddenly so dry I can't respond. I barely manage a nod as I follow her. A million thoughts race through my mind and I suddenly remember Haymitch's warning. I think of a hundred things I could have done better over the past weeks. Brighter things I could have said, bigger smiles, better stories...

She takes me to and underground shuttle and we arrive in a black hallway with no windows. We don't pass anyone as I'm led to a plush, royal colored room. The furniture is heavy looking and old, though not worn, like it's from a history book or something. Large bookshelves line the walls and a huge, many-paned window looks out on a garden. The golden girl tells me nothing more than "wait here," so I stare out at the flowers until he finds me.

"Miss Everdeen," his voice is as cold as his name and the words slip out of his pursed lips, "what a pleasure it is to have you back in the Capitol." He lingers on the last word, saying each syllable separately, slowly, perhaps out of some sort of reverence. It makes my skin crawl, but I manage to force a smile as Snow comes near me.

I try to keep up the pretense. "Thank you for having me."

"You're so popular here in the Capitol. Everyone thinks you're so charming. I've even noticed some of the girls wearing your hair." He flicks my braid as he circles me. "But in the Districts, however, I'm afraid you're popular for entirely different reasons..." His lips crack into a red smile, and he reminds me of an animal that's just slaughtered and eaten its prey.

"They bought it," I assure him.

"Oh, of course that's what you think, dearie," he condescends, "and I want so very much to believe you, if it weren't for that ever-so handsome cousin of yours..."

"Gale's got nothing to do with this."

"Do you really expect me to believe that when you've spent all your weekends in the woods with him?" He twists the word cousin so he knows that I know it a lie. "What I wouldn't have given to have had a boy as handsome as him in the Games last year. He probably would have been as popular as Finnick - "

"Gale's 18. You can't touch him."

"Maybe not in the Games, perhaps, though as you have proven this year, exceptions to certain rules can be made..." He leaves that thought hanging so I have time to feel his full implication. My fists tighten in rage. "But you're probably right, and lucky for you, he's safely tucked away working in those mines right now where, goodness knows, nothing tragic could ever happen to him..."

His meaning does not escape me, and I'm certain I could kill him in this moment, if only I had a weapon. But there is nothing within reach, and I wonder how much damage I could do with my bare hands.

"Listen," I try hard not to sound like I'm pleading, "Peeta and I will be dazzling tonight. There will be no question -"

But he cuts me off. "Why Miss Everdeen, you certainly can't be naive enough to think this is your last appearance?" My question is written across my face. "I don't' doubt your ability to fool everyone for now, my concern, shall we say, is more long term. When you mentor at next year's Hunger Games, for instance, or at the celebrations the year after that? How long do you think you can keep the whole world believing that you are in love?"

I'm so shocked, I have no control over my expression. I'd never thought of this before. I survived the Games, could survive the Tour, but keeping up the charade forever?

Snow's face splits into that sick, lipless smile again as he reached out to stroke my face. I recoil. "Katniss, dearie, you'll be doing this for the rest of your life...Though, on the bright side, one never knows exactly how long that will be."

"Come on, Katniss," Peeta tries to console me. He attempts to hug me, but I can't stop moving. I'm pacing my room like a caged animal about to explode. "Is it really so bad?"

"Is it really so bad?" I throw his words back at him with venom. "He just threatened me, Peeta! He practically promised to kill Gale!"

"I don't think he'll kill Gale..." He again reaches to calm me, but I swat him away. His shushing and petting only piques my rage.

"Don't pretend you even care," I snap.

Peeta actually looks hurt. "Hey," he rebukes, "Gale is your friend -"

"He's more than my friend!" I cut him off. He's my best friend. He's my other half. We know each other's deepest secrets, darkest fears, brightest dreams... "I don't even know who I am without Gale."

But Peeta gives me a reproachful look. He doesn't understand my meaning at all.

"Don't start with that again, Peeta." I quickly dismiss him, not in the mood for that conversation.

"You said there was nothing between you two."

"There's nothing between us, Peeta!" I point between him and me. "It's all a lie! And one we'll have to keep up for the rest of our lives as long as that snake is around." I gesture dramatically to mean Snow.

Peeta looks wounded again, and I can see the full effect our late night cuddling has had. His eyes shine with hope but are cracked with doubt, and I realize I have to put an end to this once and for all. I take a moment to compose myself, try and find a nice way to explain what I mean.

"It's not fair," I begin.

"I know," he quickly interjects.

"It's not fair to you," I emphasize. "You deserve better, Peeta."

"But I want you." I shake my head as he says this, wondering what I can do to make him realize.

"No, Peeta. You want us, and -"

"I want us to be happy," he asserts. "Is that really so bad?"

"No, Peeta, it's beautiful. But it isn't what I want." I take his hands and look him in the eyes. I take a few breaths to calm down so my voice sounds confident and strong...certain. "I don't want a happily ever after, Peeta. I don't even want an after. I just want an end."

Peeta recoils, and I think my words have frightened him. He searches my eyes, looking for a small scrape of doubt to cling to, hoping he can somehow dismiss me again. I don't back down. I mean every syllable I say.

"I want to see it all end," I repeat, "and I will do everything in my power to make that happen."


	7. Chapter 7

"I'm so glad this is all over." I say, climbing down from the train.

"Almost over," Haymitch corrects me, "Don't forget we have the welcome home dinner tonight, at the Mayor's house." I exhale sharply and roll my eyes. "Do we need to have another talk?"

"No," I promise Haymitch. "I'll be good." He eyes me, not quite believing. "I'll be better than good."

"Okay," he relents. "I just don't want any funny business."

I am about to get worked up when Peeta playfully bumps into me, snatching my bad. "Hey!" I call after him.

He turns around beaming. "Now, what type of guy would I be if I let my girl do all the heavy lifting?"

I run after him. "Peeta, wait," I call, "Peeta, you don't have to do that!" He jogs up to my front porch and sets my bag down. He grabs me and swings me around playfully when I reached him.

"We don't have to do this now. No one is watching."

"I know," he beams, "but I want to."

Sometimes, it is so easy to like Peeta. It makes me feel all the worse for not loving him.

I let him kiss me before saying goodbye, and try not to think about it as I go to my room and get ready.

Cinna told me exactly what to wear and how to do my makeup. I drape the dress on the back of my bathroom door and shower. I dry off, and do my hair before going to the mirror to attempt my makeup. Though Cinna had me practice for hours the last time we were together, I still doubt my abilities. It also doesn't help that I could hardly care less about these types of things. But after almost half an hour at the mirror, I successfully apply my mascara, a light coat of eye shadow, and an even layer of foundation. I couldn't quite seem to get the blush right, so I decide to forgo that. Next, I slip into my gown. The dress is dark blue and made from a glossy, slinky material. It feels so soft in my hands, like liquid. It falls down to my feet and there is a long slit that runs up my leg. The outside fabric is dark, smooth and shiny. I think Cinna called it satin. But the inside is made of something special. It sparkles like the night sky. When I walk, you can see the tiny jewels reflecting light. I almost wonder if thousands of tiny diamonds are sewn on the inside. I can't help but wonder how much it cost. Probably enough to feed a couple Seam families for a year. It fits tight around my waist and is a little too low cut for my comfort with a deep V neck. I put on big, stud diamond earrings and a thick, square diamond bracelet that echoes the shimmering jewels from inside my dress. I hardly recognize myself in the mirror. I wouldn't say that I am beautiful, but the dress certainly is. Finally I am ready for the last, and my least favorite, part: the high heels. Though I'd become quite adept at walking in them over the past month thanks to all of Effie's guidance, I still hate wearing the things.

I check the clock and it is almost time to go. I slowly descend the stairs, more for stability rather than effect. But as I go down, I could hear Prim cooing.

"Wooooow…."

"Oh, please…" I start to dismiss her.

"Can I wear that dress when you're finished?"

"I don't think it will fit you, little duck." I pinch her face.

"Yes it will! I'm almost as tall as you now." As I look at her, I realize she's right. How often I forget that she's grown. "It's so beautiful! Don't you think, Peeta?" I hadn't realized he was there.

He stands up. "You do look beautiful." I am suddenly thankful I hadn't worn the rouge because I am blushing so much without it. As I get to the bottom of the stairs, Peeta looks at me, speechless. He extends his arm, and finally gets out, "Are you ready?" I nod. My mother has a strange look on her face as she bids us goodbye and watches us walk out the door. I can hear Prim excitement as we walk towards the mayor's house.

"Really, Katniss, you look amazing." Peeta says.

"All thanks to Cinna," I tell him. "He designed everything."

"I don't think he can take all the credit," Peeta tells me, and I find myself blushing again.

The Mayor's house is full by the time we arrive, teeming with important guests and journalists. As we walk through the doors, we are attacked by camera flashes and questions. My grip tightens on Peeta's arm, and he looks at me as if to say, everything will be all right. I nod thankfully. Peeta is charming as usual, shaking people's hands and making them laugh. Luckily, all I have to do is smile and eat. That, I can handle.

As the night wears on, an important reporter from the Capitol pulls us aside. I turn to Peeta who also had an uneasy look on his face, but his smile never wavers.

"Of course! We'd be happy to answer any questions our fans at the Capitol have for us!" Peeta tells the reporter as he leads us to a couch.

"As I'm certain you know, my name is Tiran Inkwell, and I work for the Press Department at the Capitol." Peeta and I exchange tense glances, and nod as he continues. "Did you know that last year's games were some of the highest rated ever" He has a sing-song voice and smile that make me sick. I don't like where this is going. I swallow audibly, and Peeta squeezes my hand reassuringly.

His first few questions seem innocent enough. Peeta deftly responds, seeming to give Mr. Inkwell what he wants, but after a few moments, his eyes turn to me. "Can I get a response from Miss Everdeen?" I sit up, trying to compose myself. "You are a very inspiring figure." He says it like it was an accusation, and I know it is. "Everyone in the Capitol was greatly moved by your actions. Volunteering for your sister, saving Peeta, trying to protect Rue." His eyes sparkled as he says her name. "Tell me, how does it make you feel to know that her death has been rated as one of the top ten Hunger Game deaths of all time?"

How does it make me feel? It makes me feel sick. This man is clearly trying to get a reaction out of me, but I fight hard to compose myself. "I'm just glad that people remember her," I say, smiling weakly. "She was such an amazing little girl." He will not provoke me, I think to myself. I can do this. Just like I did with Caesar.

His eyes shine. He is happy I am playing along. "She reminded you of your sister, no doubt?"

My heart starts to race and anger fills up my chest. It is one matter to talk about Rue, but another entirely to talk about Prim. I barely manage to nod my response through barred teeth.

"Is your sister as handy as you with a bow and arrow?"

I shake my head. "That's too bad." It's too bad I don't have my bow on me now, I think. Because I'd like to send an arrow through this man's eye. I clearly wasn't doing a good job hiding my feelings, because he seems delighted to make me squirm.

"Well, Miss Everdeen, I certainly hope that someone like you is around to protect your sister should she ever have her name called again." My eyes shoot open and nostrils flare. Peeta's jaw even drops for a second. "I know what you're thinking. What are the odds, right? But after what happened this year, the odds don't seem to be in her favor." He savors his last words, his tone dancing on the threat.

All the color drains from my face and it takes everything I have not to attack the man right there in the Mayor's front room.

He revels in our reactions. "Let's get a photo of the happy couple!" He chimes, trying to torture us. He motions us to lean together. I don't know if I even manage to smile between my gritted teeth.

Peeta is barely able to get me into one of the upstairs rooms before I explode. "That was Snow!" I steam, "He sent that man here to get at me!" I look around the room for something I can throw but find nothing. This is my punishment for my interview with Caesar. I say a few little snide quips, to show I'm not stupid, and Snow sends someone to threaten Prim. There is no telling what I might do.

"Just calm down." Peeta says closing the door so no one would hear.

"Don't tell me to calm down!"

"Ok, let's just take a moment and take a deep breath."

"Don't tell me to calm down, Peeta!" I roar. "He threatened Prim! That man threatened Prim!"

"Katniss...We're in the Mayor's house!"

I realize Peeta is right, and that I also didn't care, so I dismiss him. "What! You don't think they can fix a reaping? They can do anything they want! First Gale, and now Prim! I can't volunteer for her again, Peeta! I can't protect her!" There is panic in my voice and I can feel the rage swirling in my chest. I think my heart is going to burst. I don't know what I'm going to do.

"Katniss, hey Katniss" Peeta takes my face and forces me to look at him. "It's not like anything's happened yet. We don't know anything." He grabs my arms and at first I swat him away. I know he is trying to comfort me, but he is only pissing me off. I didn't want to calm down. I want to kill something. "Okay?" He reaches for my hand again.

"No," I say stubbornly, but I let him take my hand this time. He smiles at me sweetly. "It's not okay, Peeta. Nothing is okay!" He leads me over to the bed and starts massaging my shoulders gently.

"I know, but we'll think of something. We always do."

"I hate this. The only thing that made it worth it was the knowledge that my family was going to be safe." I begin to cry as I make the realization. I knew that I was going to be at the mercy of the Capitol for the rest of my life, and I thought it was all worth it as long as they couldn't hurt my mother or Prim. "That man just took the one comfort I had left away from me!"

"What about me?" Peeta says. "Don't I comfort you?"

"No. I mean, well, yes," I say stopping to think. "But Peeta…"

"Just relax, Katniss. Let me try and make you feel better…like I did on the train."

I take a deep breath and try to relax. Maybe Peeta does have a point. We have been able to figure things out pretty well so far, and really, what are the chances Prim would get called? And even if she does, maybe I could volunteer for her again? I shudder as I think of going back to the Games, but I'd do it again, for Prim. And Haymitch is clearly up to something. I recall his "big picture" spiel. Maybe there won't even be a Games next year? Is that too much to hope for?

"See, aren't you feeling better now?"

I nod and reach up to touch Peeta's hands to thank him. But he then leans in and kisses me on my neck.

"Peeta," I say, trying to get his attention. I realize his hand had moved far down my back. I tense up again, uncomfortable.

"It's okay, Katniss." He kisses me again. "Relax."

"Peeta," I repeat, this time my voice is more strained. I don't want him to do this right now.

"Hmmm?" He sighs between kisses, hardly paying attention as his hands moved beneath my dress.

I shift uncomfortably. "Peeta, please." He doesn't seem to understand and continues. I realize I've confused him. "No." I say more forcefully. But he isn't listening. I try to get up, but his hands are around my waist and keep me seated.

"Try to enjoy this." He tells me, placing kisses by my ears and neck again. "Everything will be all right." He brushes my dress off one of my shoulders and lets his hand slide up my front.

I always knew Peeta wanted more from me. On the nights when I pretended to be asleep on the train. I could feel his eyes and occasionally his hands wander. I felt bad I couldn't give him what he wanted, and sometimes I wondered if maybe I should. But I wasn't ready to give it to him then, and I am certainly less so now.

"Stop," I say as assertively as I can. I get up, Peeta again reaches for my hand to stop me, but I pull away. "I don't want this Peeta."

"Katniss…" He looks at me tenderly. I know he doesn't mean me any harm. But I didn't want this.

"No Peeta. Not now. Not ever."


	8. Chapter 8

I walk to the door. For some reason, it is very important that I keep myself composed. I can hardly stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks. I close it behind me and look for an exit. I desperately run, trying to open a few doors. I know I only have a few moments before Peeta will decide to follow me. And I can't face him. Not right now.

Finally, I throw open the door to a bathroom and collapse to the floor. I sit next to the toilet afraid I might throw up. I try to keep quiet, but I feel like I am choking for air. Thoughts race through my mind. Anger. Fear. Hate. How could he do that to me? After what happened with that man. And Prim. How could he do that to me? How could he…How…I sob.

I can hear the noise from the party below. The happy chatter, joyous laughs. It seems like something from another planet. I need to get out. I know it will be impossible for me to make it out the front door unseen, so I throw open the window and jump below. Not a smart idea when wearing heels, I realize. I stumbled a bit, twisting my ankle, but the pain is not enough to stop me. I start to run…like a mad woman, to the only place I felt safe: the woods.

I have no plan; I just know I need to get away. I am determined to run until I feel nothing. I tear my dress as I crawl through the fence. I cry and kick at it like it is an attacker. Thorny bushes slice my skin and I'm not even sure I realize. All I know is that I need to keep running. I see a vague light to my left and hear a voice. I panic; certain it is going to hurt me. I turn, sprinting in the opposite direction.

I don't know how long I go before I trip and fall. I try to get up, but my dress is caught. The light is getting closer to me. I tear at the fabric, desperate to get away before it reaches me. I free myself, but as I tried to run, I collapse. I am not aware I am in any pain, but for some reason, my legs refuse to work. I struggle to get up again when someone touches me.

"No!" I scream. The light is in my eyes, blinding me. I can't see who is there, but I can hear him talking. I don't understand his words though. He tries to touch me again, and I again scream.

I howl and fight. I try to claw my attacker and throw some stones at him. "Leave me alone! No!" but I am too tired to keep fighting. He grabs me and pulls me up off the forest floor. I struggle, clawing at his face, but pins my arms and is much stronger.

"Please…Don't hurt me." I sob still squirming.

He tries talking to me again, but I don't register any of his words. Now that I am standing again, I kick the man and break free. I am about to run when I heard my name.

"Katniss." The sound of my name slowly triggers my brain to work. "Katniss," I hear him say again.

I turn and look back. In the dim light, I make out the familiar features of Gale Hawthorne.

"Gale?" I don't believe it is him.

"What the hell, Catnip?" He picks up his light and moves closer to me. It is then he must see the state I am in. As the light hits me, he freezes. I see his eyes searching. They look shocked and I don't understand why.

"Gale?" I repeat.

"Oh my god, Katniss, what happened?"

My brain finally realizes it is him and I rush into his arms. I bury my face in his chest and start to cry. He tries to return my hug, but I scream. "Don't touch me!" He throws his hands up, as if surrendering, uncertain what to do. To Gale's credit, he kept them up for minutes as I sobbed uncontrollably into his shirt.

Finally, I collapse and he has to reach down to catch me. We sink to the ground together, and he pulls me on to his lap, cradling me as I continue to cry.

I don't remember when I stopped, but I am suddenly aware I am covered in Gale's jacket and can hear his heart beating in his chest.

"What are you doing out in the woods this late at night?" I ask him.

Gale looks down at me curiously. "Checking on my snares. I don't have time to do it during the day any more now that I'm working in the mines."

"Sorry." I've no idea why I say it.

"Don't be." Gale shifts me in his arms. "What are you doing out here so late at night?" he returns the question. I don't answer.

He rocks me a bit, wanting a response. "Running" is the only thing I can think to say.

Gale shifts me again and moves me up so he can look me in the eye. "Katniss," he begins to probe. He knows he can get the truth out of me if he looks me in the eye.

But I can't face him. I mutter, "no," and bury myself in his chest again.

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I realize Gale is carrying me and we were almost out of the woods. I don't know how he got me through the hole in the fence, but he somehow did and I watch as we pass the sleepy houses of the Seam pass by in the bright moon light. He carries me all the way to Victors Village, and I beg him to enter my house quietly. He takes me to the kitchen, closes the door, and turns on the light. Gale's eyes widened as he looks at me. I have twigs and leaves in my hair. My dress is tattered and my legs are covered in dirt and blood.

"My god, Katniss. Do you want to tell me what happened?" He asks as he pulls my mom's medical kit from one of the shelves and grabs supplies.

I can hardly process my own thoughts. "He threatened Prim." I say. "And Peeta," I choke.

"Someone threatened Peeta and Prim?" Gale asks, alarmed.

"No!" Why doesn't he understand me?

"Peeta threatened Prim?"

"No." My tone was frustrated. "No." I stopped and tried to think. "Snow sent someone to threaten Prim."

"How?" Gale asked, dabbing one of my wounds.

"A reporter. He told me I was inspiring, and how unfortunate it would be if Prim's name was called again. It was clearly a threat." I explained.

"Of course." Gale agreed. "And what about Peeta?"

And what about Peeta? I don't even know the answer to that, and thinking about it makes me want to cry again. Gale seems to realize this and doesn't push any further.

"Well, Katniss, I think we're going to need to wash you off before I can really treat any of these wounds."

I stare at him blankly for a moment before I understand. "Oh. The downstairs bathroom," I say, "I don't want to wake my mom or Prim." Gale nods and carries me in. He sits me down on the edge of the tub and leaves. I don't even think to ask where.

"I just put some water on the stove, it will be ready in a few minutes."

"Oh no." Gale looks at me confused. "You don't need to do that," I explain. "We have hot water from the faucet here." And I turn on the tap. Gale looks a little embarrassed, and I wish I knew something to say to not make him feel so awkward, but I don't. He reaches in the tub to plug in the drain.

"Wow," he says at the steaming water. They don't have this in the houses at the Seam. "That's nice."

I nod, hardly aware. Gale puts his hand in to check the temperature. Once there is a decent amount of water in the tub, Gale motions to hike up my dress, exposing my legs almost entirely. His action catches me off guard, and I jerk away. "Sorry," I say when I see his look of concern. But Gale doesn't respond. He then lifts my feet and places them inside the tub. He takes a sponge and begins to squeezes it over my legs, washing away the blood. I wince at the pain, but Gale is slow and gentle. Soon, the water is red. Once he's done this several times, he slowly starts to clean the wounds. This contact is more painful than just the water, but I don't say anything. He softly dabs around the open cuts, picks grass, rocks and other dirt away, and runs water over my legs again. He empties the tub and fills it with fresh, hot water, and then moves to clean my arms and hands, which are significantly less damaged. I stare detached as I watch him repeat the process. He rinses the sponge again with fresh water and looks up to my face. He brushes my hair aside, picking a few twigs and leaves out in the process. There is a look in his eyes I simply don't understand.

"What?" I ask him.

"Nothing," he shakes his head, "just thinking."

"About how stupid I am?"

"I wasn't thinking that at all," he says, gently wiping the cut on my face. We are silent for a few more moments. "What are you thinking about, Katniss?"

"The water's red," I say staring at it blankly because it is. Gale only nods.

"All done." He says with a slight smile. He gets up of his knees and stands back. "Do you want to take a shower before I bandage the wounds?" I think this might be a good idea. "Katniss?" he repeats. I must have not responded.

"Yeah, I guess." He drains the water again and rinses the tub before refilling it. As it fills, he starts to unpin my hair and pull out some of the twigs. He then clumsily takes out my earrings and off my bracelet. When he finishes, the tub is nearly full. He turns off the tap and tests the water. "I don't think that's too hot." He puts a towel next to the tub and looks around. "I think that's everything," he says. "Do you need help taking off the dress?" I feebly nod. He unzips the back for me. "Call me if you need me, okay?"

I don't remember if I responded. Or how long I spend in the tub. I lay there until the water is dark with blood and getting cold. Sometime must have passed because Gale finally knocks on the door. I tell him to come in. He looks at me strangely as he enters.

"It's okay," I tell him. "It's red again," I say as if it happened by some strange phenomenon. Concern is written all over his face, and I realize I haven't made any sense. I correct, "it's okay that you come in because you can't see me because the water is red." Gale nods. I guess that time I made more sense. He crouches down next to the tub and looks at me.

"Katniss," he begins.

"No, Gale," I know his question before he even has to ask it. "I'm not okay." I pull my knees up under my chin to stay modest as he reaches in the tub to unstop the drain. I tell him to pull the shower head down and turn it on. He follows and he washes out my hair and my legs again. When he finishes, he puts the shower head up and grabs the towel. He sets it next to me and turns away.

"Why are you being so nice?" I blurt without thought.

Gale chuckles and turns around once I've wrapped myself. "Do you really need to ask that?"

I look at him confused. I understand nothing. "I've been so horrible to you."

"How?"

I don't know how to respond. My head is in such a funny place. "I'm horrible to everyone." I finally say.

Gale shakes his head, almost looking bemused if his eyes weren't so serious. He picks me up and sets me on the sink counter. "Here," he says, "I'm going to grab your mother's kit."

He returns and carefully and tenderly cleans all my wounds. First with alcohol, which stings horribly. Then with some sort of cream. Finally, he bandages the deeper cuts. When he finished, he looks me in the eyes. I have such an inability to read him. I try to puzzle out what he might be thinking, but I've no idea. "Do you want me to get you some fresh clothes?" I nod and he quickly goes up stairs and fetches me some pajama pants and a shirt. He sets them next to me and exits, softly shutting the door. I stare at the clothes for quite some time before I understand what to do with them. I finally figure it out and put them on. I then go out in to the living room to look for Gale. I see him in the kitchen. He's put away my mother's medical kit and is drying the pot he started to boil water with. I shuffle over and sit at the table. I watch him as he dries his hands and puts the pot away.

"I'm sorry to do this, Katniss, but I need to get going to the mines soon."

"Of course." I say.

"Is there anything else I can get you?" I shake my head no. He walks up to me and takes my face. He kisses me on the forehead. "I'm glad you're back." I try and respond, but I can't find any words, so instead I look up at him confused. He walks over to the door. "Katniss?"

"Hmm?" I respond without looking up.

"Peeta didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No," I say, and I'm not sure if I am trying harder to convince Gale or myself. I hear Gale start to walk away and call after him. He swings around when he hears his name. "Please, help yourself to breakfast." It's the only thing I can think to say. Gale walks over and grabs an apple from the fruit basket on the counter.

"Thanks."

No, thank you, I think. But the words never make it to my lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'd love to know what you guys think of my story, if anyone's interested in leaving my a little comment, especially in regards to the characters and events here.


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

 

Thankfully, Peeta had the good sense to stay away for the next day. I was sorry that Gale did as well. My mother must have assumed I was tired from the party and let me rest all morning. I didn't do much resting though. I pulled myself up to my window and stared out, hoping to see Gale's form appear but reminding myself he's busy working in the mines. I wonder how he's doing, working so hard without any sleep. Can't be easy, but Gale always pulls through. It's one of the few things I can count on.

I hear my mother and Prim moving downstairs. I know if I don't join them soon, they'll start to get curious. Judging by the shadows, it's well past noon. I change into my regular clothes, making sure they are long enough to cover all my cuts. They only thing I can't hide is the gash on my forehead and the scrapes on my hands. I'll need a cover story for this. I rake my brain as I look out my window. Haymitch is stirring; he's probably just getting up as well. He looks horrible. No doubt he was drunk last night. _Drunk! That's it!_ I'll tell my mother I was drunk and slipped or something leaving the party. She'll be unhappy I was drinking that much, but it won't kill her. It's the perfect cover story really, it even gives me an excuse to be in a bad mood. Happy with my story, I trot down the stairs and into the kitchen where they are working.

"Katniss!" Prim chirps.

"Did you sleep well?" my mother asks, drying her hands as she turns from the sink. "Oh my, Katniss, what happened?" Her eyes find the cut on my face.

"Nothing," I scowl and dismiss her. I grab a loaf of bread and start to chew. Then I realize it's from Peeta and spit it out. _Did he come by this morning?_ "I drank a little too much and couldn't walk in those damn heels."

"Katniss," my mother's tone was a mix of both concern and reproach. "Here, drink this." She pulled a small vial from her cupboard and added its contents to some hot water. She put the mug in front of me. "You shouldn't be drinking, Katniss."

"I shouldn't be wearing heels."

"Did the bread upset your stomach?"

_Good, that makes sense_ , I think. I look up from the mug and nod at my mother.

"Exactly how much did you drink?"

"Not that much, don't worry." She looks at me sternly, but doesn't push.

Luckily, Prim cuts in and interrupts us. "I want to know everything about the party!"

"You do?" I mimic her jubilant tone. I focus on her bright face and push aside my bad memories. "Let me think," I begin. "Do you remember my dress?" She nods. "Well, that wasn't even the one of the prettiest dresses there."

Her eyes grow wide. "I don't believe that! You're dress was so beautiful!"

_Yes_ , I think. My dress which is now in pieces hidden in my room. I see myself pulling at it in woods, tearing at it by the fence, Peeta pulling it off my shoulder. I want to shudder. I hide for a moment behind my mug and take a long sip. Then I focus on Prim's smile.

"And the Mayor's house is so nice," I continue. "The living room has beautiful paintings…Oh, and the furniture! Even the bathrooms are gorgeous." I remember crying in the Mayor's bathroom. Holding on to the toilet for support. The red water in my tub at home. This is going to be harder than I thought. "But the best part," I tell her, trying to sound as excited as possible, "was undoubtedly the food." Prim's eyes try to pull every detail out of me. "There was delicious creamy soup. It was made from some rich type of cheese, I don't think I've ever had it before. There was perfectly roasted chicken with an orange sauce on a bed of fragrant rice, and more desserts than I could ever describe. There was one, it had layers of chocolate and raspberry…" And I remember that was what I was eating when the reporter approached me.

I shake my head and look at Prim, so sweet, so pure. _No one will ever hurt you_ , I think about the man's threat. _So pure_ , I think, and I realize she is so vulnerable. She isn't safe, and nothing I'm doing will change that. She's not safe from the Capitol, even without their direct threats, they hurt her every day in so many other days. I can keep her fed, but she'll have friends who starve. One day, she'll like a boy, she'll watch him slave in the mines…like Gale is now. And they could both be lost, like our father was, any day. The Capitol doesn't have to contrive an accident. I look into those bright blue eyes that somehow still shine with happiness and hope, and I realize they deserve to see a better world. I can hide Prim from it, protect her from it, but not forever.

Something is stirring in my brain, and I need to get out and think. I lean in and kiss Prim on the cheek and tell her that I'm going for a walk. My mom begins to protest, but I ignore her worry and insist I'll be okay. I head out the door and start walking towards town.

My mind is swimming. I'm thinking of Prim and Gale and the threats and their lives and how hard I have to work to deserve them. I can't keep playing the Capitol's game, and even if I could, it wouldn't be enough to protect them from the world. So, I've got to find a way to change it.

I decide to talk to Haymitch and head over to his house. I've got a lot of questions about the things he said on the tour. I haven't forgotten about his big picture speech and suspect he knows more than he's letting on. As I hop up the stairs to his porch, I nearly crash into Peeta. He's marching out of Haymitch's house, his eyes downcast, clearly not paying attention. We look at each other stunned. He looks at me like he wants to say something. There is such an expression of shame on his face. More than shame, pain. Peeta looks anguished. He opens his mouth, put I raise my finger to silence him and shake my head. I push past him and enter Haymitch's house.

"What did Peeta want?" My question sounds like an accusation.

"Not this early in the morning, sweetheart," Haymitch says, sitting on his couch.

"It's almost two in the afternoon!"

"Well, I just woke up, so to me, that means it's morning."

"What did Peeta want?" I repeat.

"Came to ask me some advice –"

"About what?"

"Man to man –" I glare at Haymitch. I open my mouth to say something, "Now just hold on a minute," he stops me, "is there something _you_ want to tell me?"

"No," I snap.

"Then why are you here?" I open my mouth, but don't know what to say. I narrow my eyes, but Haymitch has me there. "Just spit it out, sweetheart, you're not going to spook me."

My mind is racing, I'm trying to simultaneously think about what I want to ask Haymitch and what Peeta possibly said. But I'm not sure I end up thinking about either. "Did Peeta tell you about last night?"

Haymitch takes a long moment to respond. He tips his bottle, thinks for a minute, and tips again. "He was worried about you. Didn't know where you went last night."

"I had to leave –"

"I understand, you don't need to explain yourself."

"A man from the Capitol threatened Prim."

"I heard."

"So Snow must be upset with me."

"Um, yeah, I'd say so. Now you understand why I was so upset after that interview? You need to start doing a better job in the romance department."

"That's not an option."

"Excuse me?"

"I won't do that anymore."

"Oh? Got some other brilliant plan? Going to break a few more mirrors?"

I send Haymitch a death stare. "Peeta will never touch me again. I don't love him, I don't want him, I don't trust him –"

"I think you're over reacting."

"Did he tell you what he did last night?" I scream.

"Yes, and he's sorry. Look, he's a sixteen year old boy, I'm not saying that's an excuse, but it's hard for him. "

"And it's not hard on me?"

"I'm not defending him, Katniss. He's confused, he crossed a line, he sees that now, but he didn't mean to hurt you."

"But he did," I'm fighting hard not to cry, I never cry in front of Haymitch, but I feel my cheeks grow damp. "He hurts me every time he kisses me, every time he's nice to me. I hate it! I can't stand it!"

"Hey, hey," Haymitch tries to console me, "listen, if you hate him that much –"

"It's not Peeta I hate! It's me! I hate myself because I don't love him back. Because I can't give him what he wants! And I feel like I should! And every time I see him it's a constant reminder of a life I'll never have, of things I'll never feel…." I'm really crying now. "I'm so afraid, Haymitch, when I'm awake, when I'm asleep. I don't know how to protect the ones I love. I don't even know if it matters that I do. I'd die for Gale, but he could still die tomorrow in a mine accident. And Prim, no matter what I do, I can never shield her from all the horror in this world. And one day she's going to see it, and lose that little flame of hope she has in her eyes, the belief that things are still good. I can't stop that from happening…I don't even know if I should because it's a hard and ugly place and maybe if she sees that she'll be stronger!" I'm choking on sobs now.

"Katniss," Haymitch reaches out, trying to comfort me. "I'm sorry about Peeta, but maybe you can forgive him –"

"I don't trust him, Haymitch, not anymore."

"Okay, but you don't really have to trust him. You just have to trust that he'll –"

"He made me feel like a victim!" And comprehension finally dawns in Haymitch's eyes. As a fellow victor, a fighter, he understands the true horror of that feeling. It's not pain we fear, not heartache or hunger or betrayal. It's powerlessness.

"You're right. He should have known better, there's no excuse for what he did – "

I interrupt, "it's not about what he did, it's about what he won't do –"

And he steals the conversation back, "but if we're going to make this work – " I start to laugh. Haymitch looks confused, "What's so funny?"

"Haven't you been listening? I'm not going to make it work anymore. That's the whole point." Haymitch eyebrows raise the question. "It's about what Peeta won't do, Haymitch. He won't take a stand againt the Capitol, won't try to change them, won't try to stop them – "

"Oh, and you are?" He cuts in.

"Yes," I say, eyes blazing. And Haymitch knows I'm serious.

* * *

 

I storm out of Haymitch's house. My conversation with Haymitch didn't go exactly as planned, but I'm glad I got to make my declaration. I honestly believe that he knows I mean business, and I'm certain he knows better than to try and stop me. I replay the conversation in my head and start to think about what to do next. As I walk around the corner, I see Peeta waiting for me.

He tentatively approaches me. "Katniss – " I try ignoring him and keep walking. I'm not in the mood to talk to him. I've hardly sorted out what I think or feel about last night. "Katniss, please, I need to talk to you." He jogs up in front of me and turns around, forcing me to face him. "Katniss," he stops as she sees the wound on my face and my bandaged hands. "Katniss, did someone hurt you?"

He's genuinely concerned. I can't help but laugh at the irony of this. He takes a step towards me, but I move backwards, "Don't you dare," I warn him.

"Okay," he relents, seeing his mistake, "I'm sorry. Katniss, I just," I turn to walk away from him, not wanting to listen to any of it. "Katniss, you have to let me apologize!" His tone is desperate.

"No I don't," I say with burning eyes. "I don't have to let you do anything!"

"You're right, I'm sorry, I just want you to know that I'd never intentionally hurt you. I'm so sorry, I just got caught up in the moment, and I wasn't thinking, I just wanted something good, you know?" He's practically jogging to keep up with me.

"I understand, Peeta." I say, forcing patience.

"So you forgive me?" he is so desperate.

"It's not that easy…"

"Katniss! I didn't mean to hurt you."

"But you did, Peeta, you did."

"It won't happen again," he tries to assure me.

"I know it won't." Peeta looks relieved, but I haven't finished. "It won't happen again because we won't be together again. Not in public, not in private. I'm through with this."

"Katniss, what are you saying?"

"I'm finished with this. With you."

"No!" he's genuinely horrified. "You can't do this!"

"Yes I can. And I am. I've already told Haymitch."

"Because of last night?" I can see the wheels turning in his head, trying to find some hope, some way to save this.

"No, Peeta. Because of right now."

"What am I doing wrong now? I'm trying to apologize! Make this right!"

"Exactly Peeta, you're trying to fix us and there is no us! You'll always want more from me, and I'll never want to give it to you. And I can't tell you how much that hurts me. There isn't enough space in my brain to think about this, about us, about anyone romantically right now. I don't want that. I never wanted that. And you are constantly forcing it on me! Since you first told Caesar during the Games, you've been pressuring me, and there is no escape, no end. I can't take it!"

"But Katniss," he's practically begging.

"No, Peeta, no more."

"So you're just giving up?"

"Call it whatever you want, believe whatever you want, but Peeta, please, accept that this is over. We have no future."

"Is this because of Gale?" My temper flares as he throws that in my face even though I know he's just desperate.

"What are you talking about?"

"I saw you two last night! I was so worried about you, I was looking everywhere, and I saw him, carrying you into your house…He didn't leave until dawn!"

Now I'm really angry. "You know, Peeta, just because we don't have a future, doesn't mean you have to ruin our past. You didn't have to…" I look down at him. It's a mixture of pity and disgust. I push past him and walk away.

"Katniss!" I ignore his pleas. "Katniss, please! I love you!"

I spin around with venom; there's a fire in my eyes. Peeta sees it and stops. "You don't even know me!" I spit at him, almost foaming, "And trust me, you really don't want to!" My tone is final. Peeta falls to his knees, sobbing.

_I should have let you swallow those damn berries and taken the title all for myself_ , I think as I walk away. Maybe someday I'll look back on this and feel bad for him. But right now, I just want to get away.


	10. Chapter 10

I keep walking until I can think with words again. I don't know how long I've been going. _An hour? Maybe more?_ I am so angry I don't know I where I am going, but I realize I'm headed towards town. There are too many people there, so I tell me feet to choose someplace else. I follow them away as I continue to fume.

 _What's the plan, Katniss?_ I ask myself _. What's your next move?_ Unfortunately, my anger is subsiding, and with it goes my clarity. _You need to keep the people you love safe_. I think of Prim, but somehow Peeta's image barges in. _I don't love Peeta!_ But I see him crying, doubled over in pain where I left him, swearing he loved me. _No, I don't love Peeta the way he wants me to, but that doesn't mean I hate him. Am I being fair to the boy? Am I_ being cruel? How bad was what he did really? _Or did I over react, like Haymitch said? I do honestly believe that Peeta would never intentionally hurt me, and after the nights on the train, all the hours we spent kissing on camera, I suppose I can see how the boy was confused. But that doesn't make up for the fact that he was trying to take advantage of you!_ My angry voice screams. _True,_ I admit, _but isn't that what I've been doing to him all along?_ My stomach is in knots. I need to figure this all out.

Soon, I found myself near Gale's house. I need to talk to someone, and I hope it can be him. I need help clearing my head, figure out what I'm thinking. Gale always seems to know what I'm thinking better than I do anyhow.

Though I like his mother, I'm not in the mood to exchange pleasantries with Hazelle. I walk around to the back of the house where Gale's room is. I can hear Vick and Posy playing as I circle the small structure. Hazelle chides them and calls to Rory for help. I swing around to Gale's window, and peek in to see if he is there. His room is empty. I can see the bunks that his younger brothers share. They have clothes and toys scattered about, which I know annoys Gale. His bed is neatly made and positioned across from theirs and his few possessions are organized on a hand-made shelf above it. His clothes are draped over a chair in the corner and a book rests open on his night stand. As I wonder what he is reading, Gale enters the room. I am about to jump in when I realize he is only in a towel. He must have just finished a bath, trying to clean off all the coal dust after a long day's work. I think about how jealous most girls would be to see Gale Hawthorne shirtless. He is a remarkably good looking man. Tall, well built, broad shoulders. As he walks over to the chair for his clothes, I realize he is about to dress and that I need to turn away. I quickly spin around and press my back to the side of his house. I wait a few minutes hoping I gave him enough time to change. I peek in the window again. Gale is picking up his brothers' toys and muttering to himself. I see the small dog he made for Vick last Christmas. He'd carved it himself and attached it to wheels. Though he never could get all the wheels even, and the thing only rolled in circles. I remember Gale cursing as he made it. Vick, however, never seemed to mind.

I softly tap on the window. Gale spins around, confused, but smiles when he sees me. He motions me in. I push the glass pane open and hop inside. "Hey, Gale."

"Hi," he responds. I stare at the floor, suddenly aware that I am supposed to say something, and that I have no idea why I'm here or what I'm supposed to say.

"How was your day?" I offer weakly, feeling even stupider than I sound.

Gale's eye brow shoots up quizzically. "Same as every other day. Long."

I suddenly feel a twinge of guilt. Gale must be so tired. He didn't sleep the night before, and after working twelve hours in the mines!

"I'm sorry," I sputter, "You must be so tired. This is really selfish of me. I just needed to talk to someone, I wasn't even thinking. Maybe some other time?" I start walking towards the window, ready to leave when Gale reaches out and grabs my arm.

"Don't worry, Catnip, I've always got time for you." And he pulls me back in the room. "I took a nap today during my break anyway, so I got some sleep."

I'm not sure if this is true, or if he's just trying to appease me. But I smile thankfully and meet Gale's eyes. He looks back at me with those great, gray eyes of his. And it seems for a moment that everything is okay. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, and before I know it, I am crying. I'm not sure why. It's just so nice to know I have someone I can trust. Gale pulls me to his chest and holds me close. And the tighter he holds, the more I cry. I don't know how long we stand there, me sobbing and Gale soothing, but he finally relaxes his hold and I look up at him, the last few tears falling from my eyes. He brushes them away, tenderly holding my face.

Gale pulls his chair and sits it across from his bed. He leads me to it, and sits down on his bed. He takes my hands comfortingly after brushing the last trace of tears from my face, and asks, "How can I help you, Catnip?"

I pause for a few moments, lost in the world of his gray eyes. "I…Can I…I can tell you anything, right?" I'm having so much trouble finding the right words.

"In theory," Gale says with a soft smile. I return it.

"If I tell you something, do you promise not to get mad?"

"I'm too tired to be mad, Catnip." He says, reclining on his bed.

I take a few deep breaths. I'm not sure how to begin. "Last night…" Gale looks over at me, focused and concerned. "Last night," my voice is trembling a bit. I'm not sure why. "Thank you very much for last night." He knows this isn't what I'm trying to tell him. "I was very upset because someone threatened Prim." He nods. I told him this yesterday. I take a second to think. What is it I want to Gale to know? "And there is something else. I need a guy's opinion, okay?"

"Okay…" Gale's voice is laced with confusion.

"So, guys about your age…what…what do they want from girls?" This is going to be awkward.

Gale slightly grins. "Hasn't your mother had this talk with you yet?"

"Sex? That's what you mean, right?"

"Yes," Gale chuckles.

"I thought so." I pause to think for a moment. "And how is one supposed to communicate that?"

"What do you mean?" There is a gravity to his voice now, all traces of the chuckle have vanished.

"You're supposed to ask, right? Like, both people are supposed to want it?"

"Katniss, of course. What the hell happened last night?" I can't bear to look Gale in the eyes. He's sitting upright now, body tense and awake with anger. I try to avoid his gaze. "Katniss…"

"I think Peeta tried to initiate sex with me last night." I say this quickly, in one breath.

"You think?" Gale is angry.

"I mean…He touched me."

"And you didn't want him to?" I nod. "Did you tell him this?" I nod again. "And did he stop?"

"Eventually." I'm looking at the floor.

"What the hell does that mean, Katniss?" There is a dangerous edge in Gale's voice that is almost frightening me.

"You promised you wouldn't get mad!" I yell at him.

"That was before I found out that Peeta tried to rape you!"

I don't like that word. It's not right. "No," I protest, "he just made me uncomfortable." Gale's enraged. "Please, don't make me defend Peeta." My tone must appeal to him because he calms down. "It really wasn't that bad, I just wasn't ready for it, after that man threatened Prim. He caught me off guard. I freaked out."

"This isn't okay, Katniss."

"I know. But this happens sometimes, right? People get confused?"

"Maybe," Gale huffs. He doesn't want to agree. "It's still not good."

"I know," I add lamely. "It's just complicated with Peeta. He doesn't understand." I start to tear up again, _how will I ever make him understand?_ "I still don't think he understands. I left him crying."

"You don't have to worry about his feelings, Katniss."

I nod. I appreciate hearing that so much. As tired and bothered as I am by Peeta, I still feel horrible for how I've treated him. "So am I crazy?"

"Yeah, but how do you mean?" That slight smile is back again.

"Am I crazy for being upset with Peeta?"

"Of course not. You don't have to be sorry for not wanting to have sex with him."

I feel liberated. "I don't want to have sex with anybody! Why doesn't he understand that? With everything else that's going on…Snow, the Games, the Capitol! How can he expect me to even think about that?"

"It's what boys think about , Katniss, all the time. Peeta shouldn't have touched you if you didn't want him to –"

"I don't want to be touched!" I interject. "I'm so tired of being touched!"

"Has someone else done this to you?"

"No. I mean, yes, but not like that…" I quickly recover as I see the anger flame in his eyes. "I just mean, like my prep team and stuff for the Games. I just hate it, all. I hate – "I start choking on my words, "it's like my body isn't even mine anymore. My life isn't even mine. Peeta just wants to make the best of things, I know that, but I can't…I don't know why, but I can't…" Gale nods; I've told him all this before.

"So let me get this straight…You're more upset about Peeta desiring you than actually hurting you?"

"Yes!" I assert.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"It makes me feel weak."

"Okay, I get it, but, I don't think you can really blame the guy for wanting to sleep with you."

This upsets me, and I don't know why. I start sputtering half formed questions. "Wha – Why?"

"Why? Because you're a beautiful young woman and this is what guys think about." Gale explains.

I open my mouth to argue. I don't like this, but I also know it's futile. "Really?"

"Yes, Katniss, really. You wouldn't believe what I hear the guys talking about in the mines sometimes. Or what I've caught Rory doing recently."

"Rory! He's only 13!" I almost ask what, but I stop myself. I'd rather not know.

"Yeah, that's about when it starts."

"And how do I make it stop? How do I make Peeta stop wanting me?"

"Katniss, it's not that easy. You can't change the way he feels."

I hate this; I don't want to accept it. I thought that if I could make Peeta see, give him time, he'd eventually let me go. I wanted him to be the one to walk away because it kills me to hurt him so. "Urggg!" I let out a frustrated cry and plop down on the bed next to Gale. I'm silent for a few moments, trying to sort out my thoughts. "I told him it had to be over between him and me just now. Publically and privately."

Gale takes a few moments to think about this, "Publically? How is that going to affect you?"

"I don't know, and I don't care. I just know I can't keep doing this anymore…I'm going to go insane."

"Katniss, I know you're upset about Peeta, and if It'll make you feel better, I'll happily go beat him up," a slight smile tugs at my lips when he says this, "and tell him never to touch you like that again, but, I think it's really dangerous to provoke the Capitol like that…I mean, isn't this whole love story the only thing keeping you alive?"

"Yeah," I reluctantly admit. "But am I really keeping you guys safe? Am I really helping Prim? She could still be reaped, you could still die in the mines…how am I helping anyone by doing this!"

"You help a lot of people, Katniss, just by…just by existing. I know you feel like the Capitol's toy and that you hate jumping through hoops, but, the Capitol is only a fraction of your audience. You showed the world that the Capitol isn't all powerful, that the rules can be changed. Don't you know how amazing that is?"

I avert my eyes because I don't want to think about this. "Then what am I supposed to do, Gale? What am I supposed to do? Because I don't know how much longer I can keep this up…" I'm getting teary eyed again.

"I understand." I look at him, confused, because I sure as hell don't. "Katniss," he explains, "You've always had a purpose in life. There's always been something you've needed to do. Hunt food, feed your family. Save your sister, win the Games. Everything you've ever done…" He stopped for a moment, looking for the right words, "was essential. And now…"

His words hit me hard. He is right. There was never a choice in what I did before. I did it because it had to be done. Everything was important. But now, "I'm a puppet. The Capitol's toy, painted and fed lines…" Gale knows how much I hate it. And I look at him, hoping he could see how much his words mean to me. How much he means to me.

"You just need to find your purpose again. Stop being the Katniss everyone wants you to be, and start being the Katniss _you_ want to be."

My eyes widened with uncertainty. I'd never had time to think about what I wanted to do. Before, there was something that needed to be done. There was no choice, and this new freedom was terrifying. Gale must have notice because he smiles and softly adds, "Well, you don't have to do it right now." I chuckle. "Don't worry, Katniss," he soothes, "no matter what you choose, I'll always have your back."

"Even if I choose to be a Capitol stooge and stay with Peeta?" I wasn't really sure why I threw Peeta's name in there. I guess I wanted to see how Gale reacted. I must have caught him off guard.

He tenses for a moment, then adds, "Of course. I'll respect you a little less, but…."

We both laugh. We sat in silence for a few moments before I notice Gale looking at me strangely.

"What?" I ask him.

"Nothing," he says softly, "I just haven't seen that smile in a long time."

"No one has," I confess.

Gale leans in to hug me. I could stay in his arms for ages, but he finally breaks away. "Well, Catnip, I hate to send you away, but it's about bed time."

"What? It's hardly dusk. There's no way the children go to bed this early."

"They don't," Gale says, "But I do. I have to be in the mines before dawn tomorrow."

I nod and squeeze Gale's hand as I go to leave. I wish I know the right words to tell Gale how much respect I had for him. What a great friend he is, what great son and brother. What a great man. I pull myself up in the window sill and turn to say good bye. Gale is already lying in his bed. The same one he'd had since childhood, I think, noticing how his feet draped off the end. And it seems such a pity to me that a man who works so hard can't at least come home to a good bed. His eyes are closed, and I assume he is already asleep. I know exactly how tired he is, though I can't imagine facing a whole lifetime of it. "I hope you know how important you are to me, Gale," I say, as I hop out the window. I don't have the courage to look back to see if he heard or reacted.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, I'm desperate to know what you all think of the past few chapters, if you've stuck with my story this far, please let me know! I try not to beg for reviews, but they mean so much to me. It's really important to me how Katniss and Peeta comes across, and how their relationship falls apart. It was important to me to explore the implications of their "forced" romance, and how that affects both of them, especially in the context of the scene at the mayor's house. Do you all think it's believable? Did I handle it well?
> 
> Also, what do you all think of Gale? I know he's been on the sidelines for a bit, but I promise he's back now! Is he making my fellow everthorne fans happy?


	11. Chapter 11

I'm not sure if I've gained any perspective from my talk with Gale, but I do feel better. It's so easy to be around him, not stressful like with Peeta.

I try and sort through my thoughts as I walk home. Perhaps I can forgive Peeta for the previous night, or more importantly, I want him to be able to forgive himself. This doesn't change the fact that I'm finished with him. But Gale was right, I have to be careful. The Capitol might be enraptured with my love story, but the rest of Panem, well, they are taken with me. I need to find a way to get back to that girl again. The one who acted out of love for her sister, compassion for Rue, not out of fear of the Capitol.

This new realization emboldens me. I tell myself I'm no longer going to be afraid, that's the Katniss everyone loves, the Katniss I can respect. I walk home happily, with more purpose in my step. I realize that deciding not to be afraid isn't exactly a plan, but it's a step in the right direction. I'll worry about the rest tomorrow.

As I approach the path to Victor's Village, I notice something strange. It takes me a moment to realize, but it suddenly clicks that the lights are on in one of the unoccupied houses. I wonder what could be going on, and trot up to find out.

Numerous people seem to be going in and out, carrying large boxes and supplies. As I get closer, I hear the familiar Capitol accent. Some of the people smile and wave at me. I tentatively wave back. I search their faces to see if I recognize any of them. In the crowd, I see Octavia, a member of my prep team.

"Ohh, Katniss! Hello!" She chips, rushing over to greet me. "Aren't you so excited to see us?"

"Umm, yeah," I stammer, unsure of what else to say, "What are you guys all here?"

She laughs but realizes my expression is genuine. "What, you mean you don't know? Katniss, we're here for your engagement party, of course!"

* * *

I drop Octavia's hands, and immediately dash over to Haymitch's house. I burst through his front door, not bothering to knock. I hear his voice in the next room.

"Haymitch!" I bellow. I grab one of his liquor bottles from his table and empty the remaining liquid on the floor.

"Katniss," I vaguely register his voice, "not one of my full bottles…" he laments the wasted booze. Body in sight, I lunge for him, flattening him to the wall. With my one hand, I pin him, applying pressure across his throat, and with the other, I smash the empty body and wield it like a weapon, jagged part about to slice his cheek.

"You did this!" I roar.

"Hey, sweetheart, calm down," he tries to placate me, but I'm not in the mood. I press the bottle harder until a thin red line appears on his face. "Whoa, easy now…"

"Katniss," someone else is behind m and touches my arm. I swing around, nearly slicing off Cinna's nose in the process.

"Hey!" he jumps back, hands up, as if surrendering.

"Are you part of this?" I accuse him. But as I turn my attention to Cinna, Haymitch wrestles my arms. He catches me off guard, and twists my wrist forcefully. I'm surprised at how strong and capable Haymitch is. He must have been quite scary in his prime, if this is him half wasted. I almost yelp, and the pain forces me to drop the bottle. It breaks on the floor. Haymitch doesn't let go. He's telling me who is in charge here. As much as I hate it, I have to submit. "Okay," I tell him. "Okay, okay!" My tone is more pleading this time. Haymitch loosens his grip and kicks the bottle away. He rubs his throat and I can see a red imprint from my arm.

"I've just about had it with you and your little stunts today..." he jabs his finger towards me, accusingly.

"Me? You're blaming me for this?"

"Well, yeah!" Haymitch spits with sarcasm.

"You expect me to believe that the day I tell  _you_  I'm through pretending with Peeta that an army from the Capitol arrives to force me to marry him! That it's just a coincidence or something!"

"Of course not, dummy," Haymitch condescends, "But that doesn't mean _I_  told them!"

I blink, not comprehending. "If you didn't do it, then…?" My voice trails off in a question.

"Well, I wasn't the one yelling at Peeta out on the lawn this morning…"

"Afternoon," I correct him. If Haymitch is going to reproach me, he should at least have his facts straight.

He glares at me.

"And Katniss," Cinna begins, his tone is comforting, not angry or accusatory like Haymitch's. "You have to be careful about what you say," he looks suspiciously around, and for the first time, I realize the Capitol might be using these houses to spy on us.

I gulp, full of dread, and Haymitch affirms Cinna's assumption. "Why don't we go for a walk," Haymitch says, "maybe the fresh air will do us good."

We slowly exit Haymitch's house and make a loop behind it. We start to walk away from Victor's Village, and when we can no longer hear the prep team and others buzzing in the new house, Haymitch turns to me and we stop.

"I think it's time we tell her about the Big Picture," Cinna says. Haymitch gives a slight nod in agreement.

"The Big Picture?" I ask.

"Katniss," Cinna starts calmly, "Do you remember what Haymitch told you after the Game? About why the Capitol was so upset about your and Peeta's victory? About why it was so essential that you pull of this charade as a lovesick school girl?"

"Of course I remember!"  _How could I forget? It only changed my whole life._

"Can you tell me why?" Cinna continues. He reminds me of one of my grade school teachers. I don't like it.

"Because I embarrassed them. Because I made them change the rules of their stupid Game."

"Yes, Katniss, and why do they think that is a problem?"

I hadn't really thought of that before. Haymitch smiles as he sees the confusion on my face. I want to lunge at him again.

"They don't like it when people break the rules," Haymitch cuts in. "Gives other people the idea that maybe they can break the rules too. You're not the only one out there who hates the Capitol. Not the first one who's had the bright idea of taking them down."

My eyes light up and now I see. I see why they killed the people in District 11, why Snow is so desperate to convince the world that I am just a love sick school girl…because if I'm not, well, I'm the girl who defied the Capitol. And lived.

"People have been making plans for a long time. Do you remember when I told you that you were the only girl who could play this part?" Cinna looks at me fondly, "well, you are, and we've been waiting for you for a very long time."

"Me? Why me?"

"Because you're the one who can inspire the people. Unite them. It's not hard to convince the people to hate the Capitol, but it is hard to convince them it's worthwhile to do something about it."

"So what, you want me to be the mascot of your revolution?" I say, with a certain amount of bile.

"I wouldn't put it quite like that," Cinna responds.

"You said you wanted to do something about it, sweetheart…How did you put it this morning? Going to take a stand, and that's why you couldn't forgive Peeta, because he didn't want to change anything…."

I may have said something like that. "So you're telling me there are lots of people…plotting to take down the Capitol."

"There are a lot of people who want to see things change," Cinna offers.

"How so?" I probe.

"For starters," Haymitch beings, "getting rid of Snow."

My eyes light up and a smile breaks across my face.

"All right then. You can count me in.  So what's the plan?"

"The plan?" Haymitch asks me with a pointed look.

"Yeah, the plan, how are we doing this?"

"Wait just one second, little missy, you're a part of it, not in charge."

"I'm not asking to be in charge, I just want to know what we're doing." I return, piqued.

"It's complicated." I can tell Haymitch doesn't want to discuss this.

"Excuse me?"

"Katniss – " Cinna starts, but I don't let him finish.

"You can't expect me to be a part of something when I don't even understand – "

"The plan is to take down Snow, and that's all you need to know. For now, just keep playing your part."

"What?" I can't believe what Haymitch just said.

"You heard me."

"How is doing exactly what Snow wants me to do helping to fight against him?" I'm furious.

"Because for the moment, it keeps you safe." Haymitch says, grabbing my arm and pulling me aside.

I push him away. "I won't do that!" I yell.

"Katniss, things are very delicate." Cinna tries to calmly explain.

"Yeah, I get that," I spew, "but how is me lying to everyone going to help?"

"What do you have in mind then?" Haymitch almost taunts me.

"I break up with Peeta! It will show the rebels…" I'm surprised to see Cinna shaking his head.

"No, Katniss, it isn't going to show the rebels anything, just that you're a fickle, silly, little girl. Unless you plan on getting up on stage and telling everyone that not only do you not love Peeta, but that your entire relationship was a farce. That you've been lying…"

"To everyone all along." Haymitch finishes, almost gleefully. "And then, no one will ever trust you again."

"What people love about you is your commitment, your integrity, you strength," Cinna puts his hands on my shoulders to comfort me. "And I believe you've still got strength left in you." I look in his eyes and know he says what he means. "I know it's hard to see, Katniss. I know it doesn't really make sense to keep playing Snow's game, but that will keep you popular and safe in the meantime."

"In the meantime?" I question. "Meantime until what?"

"Until we figure out what to do with you." Haymitch answers brightly. I look at him quizzically.

"Katniss, you've had a rough past few days…a rough past few weeks," Cinna says, "with the tour, with the party. Why don't you take some time, keep your head down, and think. I'll try to keep these vultures off you as much as possible, but you can keep this up a little longer, can't you?" Cinna's eyes shine with hope.

I don't want to do it, but I know I can. I nod in agreement. So much for the bold, fearless new Katniss I was dreaming of just an hour ago.

"Don't fret too much, okay? This engagement just might be the distraction we need."

As I ponder this distraction, Peeta jumps in my brain again. "What about Peeta?" The words come out of my mouth before I think them.

"I'll talk to Peeta, okay?" Despite my anger, I know I can trust Haymitch when he says this.

"Try and make him understand, okay?" My tone is almost pleading. Haymitch nods, his face is sincere.

He looks over at Cinna. "We can probably arrange to talk about the engagement stuff last." Cinna nods. "Peeta's paintings have been selling at the Capitol, so they want to talk to him about his talent, and you about yours."

"My talent?" I look shocked. "What's my talent?"

"Fashion." Haymitch says with snark.

"Why don't you go home and get some rest?" Cinna says it nicely, but I know it's not really a suggestion. I nod and start walking towards my house after telling both men goodnight.

"And try to stay out of trouble!" Haymitch calls after me. I ignore him and keep walking.

* * *

The next few days pass in a blur. I spend most my time with my prep team, which I normally wouldn't enjoy, but because this keeps me isolated and away from all the reporters, I welcome them. It turns out I'm quite thankful for the gashes on my legs because they have to spend nearly an entire day healing them with creams and small laser tools.

"If only we had all our equipment from the Capitol…"

I mindlessly listen as they flutter around me, trimming my hair, shaping my nails, smoothing my body. I tune out most of their dribble, but I can't help but hear a lot of complaints. Apparently, the Capitol has run into several shortages over the past few weeks, seafood, paper products, electronics, fabrics… Octavia says it's because of bad weather. But bad weather wouldn't cover so many diverse districts simultaneously. And even if it did, how would that affect electronics and fabrics…aren't they made in factories?

I ponder this for the rest of our session and don't pay attention to much else until I hear a knock on the door.

"Can I come in?" I'm relieved to hear it's Cinna.

"Of course!"

"Ready to try on some dresses?" He lifts up several bags I know contain his wonderful creations. "Come on Katniss, you could at least pretend to be excited."

"I don't see any cameras," I scoff, "got anything in black?"

"Ha ha." Cinna meets my stare. He comes over to inspect my body. He turns my hands over, searching out the faint scars.

"Are you mad at me?" I ask Cinna, uncomfortable in the silence. He is not as warm as he usually is. I've never cared if I piss off Haymitch, in fact, I quite enjoy it. But with Cinna, I'm actually worried I've done something wrong.

"Why would you ask that?"

"You seem…" I look for the right words, "distant, upset."

Cinna looks at me sweetly, and pushes the hair out of my face. "Things are complicated. It's a lot of pressure when you're responsible for so many people. I just want to make sure I do things right." There is such a serious shadow across his face. I want to press him for more details, but something about his demeanor tells me not to.

"So, Cinna, what's with all these shortages?" I try to change the subject.

"You picked up on that, huh?" he says with a faint smile.

"Well, Venia was quite upset she couldn't have everything she wanted at her birthday party. Something about seafood shortages and limited electronics." I search Cinna's face for answers. "They said it was because of bad weather?"

"But you don't believe that, do you?" I shake my head. "Smart girl. Now, let's see what…what should you wear?" Cinna goes over and unzips his case. He pulls out numerous dresses, from light frilly frocks to more elegant evening gowns. I've got three events to dress for. First, today, is the home interview. They do a couple segment pieces on how we're living our life, interview our families, show our new houses, ask about our talents. A gallery in the Capitol wants to sell some of Peeta's paintings, so they'll spend a good chunk of today filming him and talking about that. I'll also have to talk about my talent, which is really Cinna's as he does my dresses, but since I know nothing about it, Cinna luckily arranged for a few models to come and show them off, while he, Portia, and another visiting stylist named Homer critique them. This will minimize the time I have to spend in front of the cameras. Cinna is a genius. I thank him after he tells me this plan. "Here, why don't you try this dress?" It's a simple but elegant dress that is both beautiful and professional. It's form fitting and hugs my body stopping just above my knees. It's a lovely burgundy color and has a lace shell that comes up to my neck while the solid material below only just covers my bust. I put it on and Cinna zips me up. It's fits perfectly.

"Wow," I say at myself in the mirror.

"Don't you look magnificent?" I can only nod in response to his question. "Let's try it with these shoes."

They are small heels and I can manage them quite well. "Thank you, Cinna. Now, did I design this or you?"

"Sorry, I'm taking credit for this one." He says smiling at me in the mirror.

I open my mouth to say something when the doorbell rings. "I'll get that," I say hoping down the stairs.

"Prim, the door!" I hear my mother call from another room.

"Don't worry mom, I got it!" I scream back as I open the front door. I'm shocked to see my friend Gale, and he looks equally surprised to see me. "Gale, what are you doing here?"

"Um…Sorry…" the words were catching in his throat. "Wow. You look amazing, but that's not why I'm here. Umm…" I've never seen Gale Hawthorne flustered before, and if I didn't know better, I'd say he might be blushing. "Haymitch told me to come. For an interview."

"Oh. The family interviews, right. We'll come on in, cousin," I add since I know there television crew is around somewhere.

"Gale!" Prim gushes, running over to him. He picks her up and spins her around. I can't help but smile when I see the two of them together. Prim is a little shaky when he puts her down. "Oh, Katniss, you look amazing! Doesn't she look amazing, Gale?" She looks up at him for an answer.

"Always." He says simply. I think I might be the one blushing now.

"That's not true!" Prim protests. "Sometimes she looks awful…like in the morning or when she has to clean, but when the Capitol people are here, they always make her look incredible…." Prim continues to babble on when Haymitch comes in.

"We're focusing on their talents today…"

"Why aren't we doing the engagement piece first?" a reporter asks.

I avoid Gale's eyes. I don't know if anyone's told him about the engagement yet. I haven't. And after our last conversation, I can't face that right now. If Gale has any reaction, he hides it well.

"We're saving the best for last, jeez…" Haymitch's voice trails off as he leads the crew to another room.

I never noticed it before, but he uses a different voice when he talks with them. He tells some to set up in the dining room, this is where we'll model my clothing. The front room is where they can do the interviews. Two men begin moving furniture and talking about camera angles. Haymitch is followed by the director. She's a young girl with bright white hair, dark skin, and strikingly blue eyes. It's a strange combination. "We need to get everyone into hair and makeup immediately," she begins, looking around the room at my family. "It's probably going to take a while to get these people camera ready…." Her intonation is insulting, but I'm used to that from the Capitol. I hope my sister doesn't pick up on it though. The lady stops as soon as she sees Gale. "And who are you?" she asks with a delighted grin on her face. She looks Gale up and down and he is clearly uncomfortable.

"I'm…um…I'm Gale." He never liked getting much attention.

"He's my cousin," I say, moving protectively towards him.

Her gaze moves over to me and I confront her stare. "Your cousin, you say? I wouldn't have guessed it, unless, wait, is that how you guys do things here?" I understand exactly what she's implying, and I don't like it one bit. I try to hide my anger, I'm not even sure why she's upset me. I tell myself it's because she's being so condescending. "Well, whoever you are, gorgeous, we'll start with you. Let's get you upstairs and fitted into some decent clothing…" She leads Gale by the hand up the stairs and I feel my eyes burning as I watch them walk away. I do not like this woman.

Someone else calls for my sister and mom. I follow them upstairs and into my room where Cinna was working with me. He's there waiting with a dress he's picked out for each of them. As we walk by, I see Gale shirtless through the partially open door across the way.

"You must work out a lot," she says, squeezing his arm.

"No. I just work a lot." Gale says flatly. I'm happy to see he's unimpressed by her.

"Do I get to keep it?" My attention shifts back to Prim who is fawning over the little dress Cinna chose for her. It's a deep turquoise color that highlights her eyes nicely. My mother has a simple purple gown that suites her very well. They both step into the bathroom to change.

"Don't worry about Vivica," Cinna sees me starting across to the room Gale's in.

"Excuse me?" he catches me off guard.

"Vivica…" his eyes dart in her direction.

"Oh, I'm not worried," I tell him, but I'm not sure he believes me.

After a few minutes, Haymitch softly knocks on the door. "All right, well, I think we've got just about everything set up downstairs." There is a particular amount of loathing in his voice. I can tell how much he hates doing this stuff and can see by the way he's wobbling that he's already drank too much. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, and moved it back and forth in front of his eyes trying to focus. "All right," he rubbed his chin, "first, we'll take Katniss and Cinna and the crew in the dining room to talk about the dresses. Meanwhile," he spins around to see who's in the room. "Where is that kid? Cousin!" He bellows, "Handsome cousin, get in here!"

"His name is Gale," I tell Haymitch pointedly.

"I don't care," he mimics my intonation.

Gale peeks his head in the door. "Yes?" Gale's voice is almost always calm and even and I was probably the only one who could sense his anger.

"Yeah, get in here. Okay, while Katniss is busy talking about dresses," he says this with a particular amount of venom. Haymitch is having a very bad day for some reason. This usually happens when he runs out of alcohol, but I can tell from his breath that this isn't true today. "The family and I will be in the next room giving interviews. And the other crew is next door with Peeta. And the Paintings." He looks around at us to see if we all understood. Perhaps he thinks his instructions are more difficult than they are. None of us are confused. It takes Haymitch a few minutes to realize this, but once he does, he blinks a few times and nods. "All right, let's go down stairs."


	12. Chapter 12

Vivica is tapping her nails, or rather talons, impatiently as we descend the stairs. She seems to hate everyone in the room except for Gale. Cinna squeezes her arm fondly and they exchange brief kisses as she tells him to go wait with Homer and Portia in the dining room. They must have arrived while we were upstairs. I remember what he told me about her, but don't get it. She seems like a witch to me. Vivica gives Haymitch another list of instruction, and I hear him nearly belch "thanks, sweetheart," in her face. She fans the air in front of her wrinkled nose and mumbles something under her breath about disgusting district people. I knew I didn't like her. Haymitch, my mom, sister, and Gale are led into the front room and its doors are drawn shut. I sit nervously next to Cinna who gives me a supportive stare.

We are positioned to the side of the room and a makeshift runway is put in the center. The models will show of ten new pieces and the cameras are positioned to capture not only them but also the stylists' reactions. They do a couple takes of Vivica reading the introduction (she is apparently the host/commentator as well as the director.) And Cinna tells me she'll be interviewing the stylists for their opinions after the fashion show. When she's satisfied with her take and is confident the cameramen know what they are supposed to do, she goes to do the interviews in the next room. Haymitch was apparently going through a practice run with them, and she'll do the real thing. Now that she's gone, Haymitch comes in to watch us. He tells me not to try and look so bored.

I hope I didn't look bored because I know I was. They start by filming us from several different angles waving and introducing ourselves. I tried to remind myself of all the hard work Cinna did for me, and thinking of that I'm able to smile. It takes over half an hour for the girls to come out in all ten pieces. I think there were three models, but they looked a lot alike, so I couldn't be certain. When they finish, the other stylists tell me what a wonderful job I've been doing and that I show real promise as a designer. I get up and curtsey, and try to look as enthusiastic as possible before walking out to let them talk about me.

My family, Haymitch and Gale are waiting for me in the kitchen.

"How'd the interviews go?" I survey their faces for clues. My mother nods and Gale shrugs. Prim seems happy to have been on camera. "Are you guys finished?"

"Just about," Haymitch says between swigs. "Vivica can probably do the rest though. You might want to stay pretty in case they want to talk to you some more, but everyone else is free to go." Gale doesn't know what he's supposed to do. I want to have a minute to talk to him. I'm not sure how much he knows about what's going on and feel I need to explain. But before I get the chance, Haymitch suggests they walk back to town together. Gale looks at me, but I don't know what to tell him, so he nods and the two men leave.

My mother makes tea and offers cookies to the camera crew who've finished. I can faintly hear the rest of the interviews going on in the dining room, and it's almost an hour before they come out. Portia and Homer tell me again what an incredible job I did and apologize for having to leave so quickly.

"Don't worry, really," I tell them with a bright smile and fake kisses. Cinna fortunately sticks around for a while longer.

"Want me to help you get that off?" I nod appreciatively and follow him upstairs. "I was talking to Vivica and we were thinking we need to get another bit with you in it. We have so much from Peeta and his family with the paintings, but not so much of you…"

I roll my eyes. "Do I have to talk about the dresses?"

Cinna smiles. He can see how much I don't like this. "That's what Vivica suggested, but I had a different idea. It took work to convince her, but I think the segment will play out nicely."

I pause, waiting for him to tell me what it is, but he doesn't. "Okay," I finally say. "What do I have to do?"

He pulls out a garment bag and places it at the foot of my bed. "Just show up wearing this tomorrow morning at the front of town. I'll be there waiting for you."

I want to ask Cinna to explain, but he says he has to go before I get to ask any more questions. He kisses me softly on the cheek and leaves. I'm left alone with my confusions and unanswered questions.

I take a shower to wash off all my makeup and head down stairs. My mother is cooking dinner. All traces of the day's activity have disappeared.

"Do you need any help?" I ask her.

"Oh, no dear, I can manage." She returns sweetly.

"I hope today wasn't too hard on you."

"Now, the first time they came to question us, that was rough." I was in the Games when this happened. Since I've never seen the footage, I often forget about it. But when there are only eight people left, film crews go out to all the districts and interview the families of the remaining tributes. "They wanted to talk about everything. I don't know if Prim and I would have gotten through any of it if it weren't for Gale…"

I come up behind her and squeeze her shoulders. It's the closest thing to a hug I can manage. She puts her hands softly on one of mine before she turns around and takes my face. She places a delicate kiss on my forehead which surprises me. "Katniss, dear, I am so proud of you." She now hugs me, and I make myself return it. My mother is so fragile, I think I might break her if I squeeze her to hard. It's been a long time since we've hugged like this. I spent so many years resenting and blaming my mother it is hard for me to open up to her again. She finally releases me and returns to her simmering pots.

"What are you making for dinner?" I try to change the subject.

"A new pasta dish someone from town told me about." My mother has been experimenting a lot with new recipes now that we have the funds to buy more and better foods.

"Smells delicious."

After dinner I go upstairs, planning on sleeping early. All the fuss and fanfare from the Capitol people wears me out. They've been here for three days now, and we've only done one of the interviews. I still don't know what Cinna has planned for tomorrow morning, but in the afternoon I've got to spend quality time with Peeta. I have to control my gag reflex. Not exactly because of Peeta, but because I can't stand the farce. I had enough trouble today pretending to be happy about my dresses, I don't know how I'll get through tomorrow. I haven't spoken to him at all since this whole thing was arranged. I was in my house getting prepped while he was in his house with his team. I've no idea what he thinks about the whole thing, but I can only assume he's a mess and wonder if the resulting stress is what has pushed Haymitch over the edge. He told me he'd deal with Peeta, and he hasn't even been in the neighborhood of sober since. I wonder if I should feel bad about that.

I get out of the shower when I can't stand to think about it anymore. I dry off with my towel and go to investigate Cinna's package. I wasn't too curious about it, because I assumed it was just another dress, and I'd had my fill of dresses for the day, but I was desperate for any clue about tomorrow's activities. I unzip the case and am surprised when I don't see another dress. Instead, Cinna has prepared something reminiscent of my Hunger Games outfit. It's a sleek jumpsuit, some type of plastic-like material, undoubtedly weather proof. There are black pants and a windbreaker made from the material. My heart sinks in horror as I look at it. What on Earth do they have prepared for tomorrow?

I try to believe Cinna would never be part of anything so cruel as to remind me of the Games, but this thought isn't enough to comfort me as I try to sleep. I'm so nervous I can't stop sweating, and I'd give anything to even have Peeta come and comfort me. I try to think of any reason I'd need the clothing Cinna prepared for me. I know it must be something outside. Maybe they would just have me show off some of my archery skills? Or maybe they'd follow me in the forest? Technically, that is illegal, but I'm sure the Capitol people could work around the rules if they really wanted to. Neither of those scenarios would be too bad, and that is where my true talents lie anyway, but I can't shake the doubt. The Capitol is far too calculating and cruel. I know Snow would never pass up the opportunity to mess with me.

I spend the whole night writhing. I dream I'm back in the Games, running around in one of Cinna's evening dresses. I'm full of dread and urgency. I know Snow has my family and that I must save them. I first come across Cinna. He's sitting on a rock sewing. I ask him desperately to help me, but he says he's busy, something important for the Capitol, but says he has enough time to teach me how to use one of my high heels as a weapon. I'm annoyed, but desperate. I take of my shoes and he shows me how to wield it like a knife. I feel ridiculous, but it's actually an effective tool. We stand together and practice swinging for a few minutes, but Cinna tells me I've got it and that he has to get back to work.

The next person I meet is Haymitch. He's huddled around an empty bottle mumbling. I can't quite make out what he's saying. "I've lost something in there!" he cries, trying to crawl inside. I try and pull Haymitch away, but it's no use. I beg him to stop, but he doesn't respond. "You'll find all the answers, Katniss…"

"Where, Haymitch, where?" I ask desperately.

"At the bottom of a bottle!" And I run away, leaving Haymitch in his tears staring into his bottle.

I continue running through the woods and crash right into Peeta. "Katniss!" he says brightly, "I'm so happy I've found you!" I'm confused because I'm not sure if we're friends or enemies. I vaguely feel like I'm supposed to kill him, but he seems so glad to see me, I can't do it. "Come on, I've found a place where we can be safe." I follow him through the woods as he tells me about all his plans. "It's a great place, Katniss, we can be happy together for a long time, I'm sure. There's plenty of food and water nearby, and we won't want for anything." I'm very confused by what he's telling me, but don't ask any questions. We finally reach a small clearing. "There it is," he beams, "our new home!" And I see a cave just beyond the trees.

"You want to live there?" I ask incredulously.

"Of course! Isn't it perfect?"

"No." This hurts Peeta's feelings. The sun fades from his face and he looks angry.

"Why don't you just come inside and check it out." His tone is now tense. I don't like it.

"No, Peeta, I'm trying to find my family! I can't stay with you."

"Just see if you like it, okay, Katniss?" He grabs for me.

"No, Peeta!" I pull away. He reaches for me again, and I start to run.

"Katniss! Come back!" He yells after me! "You can't escape me! I'll always come after you!" He breaks off into a maniacal laugh that terrifies me. "You can never leave me!" I don't look back and don't stop until I can no longer hear him.

My feet are starting to hurt now, so I take off my shoes and walk. I see a lake in the distance and walk towards it. As I approach the shore, I hear someone laughing. I see Vivica resting in the sand. Gale is next to her, wearing a chain. He's fanning her with a palm leaf and feeding her grapes. I realize that he's her slave. "Gale!" I cry, running up to him.

"You can't have him, Everdeen," she tells me. "He's mine."

"She's right, Katniss, it's the law." Gale says, showing me the brand mark on his thigh.

"No, Gale! I won't let her do this to you!"

"This life isn't actually so bad." He got down on his knees behind her and starting rubbing her back. It makes my blood burn. "It's better than working in the mines."

I start to cry, "please Gale, come with me!" I slowly walk towards him, arm outstretched.

"What? You're the only one who gets to enjoy the perks from the Capitol?" I feel horrible as he tells me this. "I told you we could have run away together. But you didn't want to…I'm not just going to sit by and watch you have all the fun…" He takes Vivica's face in his hands and kisses her passionately. I cannot bear to watch. I start sprinting in the opposite direction.

As I run, I can hear Prim scream.

"Prim! Prim! I'm coming!" I cry out, trying to run towards her voice. It slowly gets louder and louder. I see a small house in the middle of a clearing. I run up to it. I hear her yell. I know she's inside. I throw open the door.

"Katniss, my dear, I've been waiting for you." Snow has a thin smile stretched across his face. His long fingers are folded in front of his mouth. He's sitting upright at a chair next to a small table.

"I heard Prim cry." I accuse him.

"I'm sure you did." He says knowingly.

As I approach, I realize there is something placed on top of the side table. It's a chess board. When I get close, I see that it's not placed with real chess pieces, but miniaturized versions of the people I love. I see Cinna sewing on one of the squares, Haymitch crying on another, Peeta painting a picture of me, Gale and Vivica rolling around. My mother's on the board too. And Prim. "It's your move," Snow says. I look at the board in dread, realizing I have to sacrifice one of them in order to win.

Then I wake up in a heavy sweat. It isn't even close to morning.


	13. Chapter 13

I hardly got any sleep and yawn as I trudge down the path to town. It's heavily misty this time of day and it covers the world in a thick yellow haze. I love it when it's like this out in the woods. But I'm not in the woods, and the sound of a camera crew quickly reminds me of that.

I hear their chatter before I can make any of them out. I first see Cinna. He warmly greets me.

"Katniss! You look like the champion we all know and love."

"Is that why you chose this for me?"

"Of course, I wanted to remind the people about the girl that inspired them. Not her celebrity counterpart who's been distracting the media these past few months."

I smile thankfully at Cinna. I was half ready to give him an earful for the nightmares he gave me, but I can respect the decision he made. It is nice to not feel like a painted doll for once. It'd be nicer to feel that way after a good night's sleep, but, I'll take what I can get. "So, what's going on, Cinna. What are we doing?"

He takes out my Mockingjay pin and fastens it to my coat. "There." He pats it softly. Cinna seems more serious this morning than usual. "We thought it'd be nice to do a little promotional piece about life here in District 12…"

"You thought it'd be nice," Vivica butts in, "I only agreed because the gorgeous cousin's going to be in it. And it'd be such a shame not to feature someone as good looking as he is on camera…." I'm not entirely certain, but I think she may have licked her lips after saying that.

I'm shocked to learn that Gale and I will be doing a piece together. It takes me a few moments to process my thoughts and form a question. "What…um…what are we going to be doing exactly?"

"You know," Vivica chirps, she's clearly a morning person. "Showing us the mines. What it's like down there…you know, for you people…" She clearly has no idea what she's talking about.

I address Cinna. "Cinna, I'm not sure people really want to know about the mines…they are kind of horrible." Cinna looks at me knowingly. I realize this might be part of the plan, a way to sneak some information to the Capitol under Snow's radar. Clever, I think, like what I tried to do with Caesar.

"Yes," he says carefully, "but with all the shortages in other Districts, it'll be good to show people that things are running smoothly here in Twelve." I remember the conversation we had yesterday and nod.

"Also, there's your cousin's new invention…" Haymitch coughs out as he saunters over. He looks even worse today than he did yesterday. I'm not sure if he's been to sleep yet.

"My what?"

"Your cousin, the handsome one," Haymitch clarifies, "he's been working on a new elevator to help reach deeper, dangerous parts of the mine. Generally, no one would care," he says, pausing to take a sip from his flask, "but since he's related to our beloved victor," adds with gusto, slapping my back, "we thought maybe the world would take a bit of an interest. Plus," he takes another sip, "Vivica here was dying to find a way to tie him in."

"I just don't think anyone that handsome should be wasted." She defends.

I look at him curiously and nod.

"And here's the man of the hour now!" Haymitch celebrates as Gale walks up. "Are you ready?" I know Gale doesn't like to pander to the Capitol, but it seems like Haymitch is asking something far more serious.

Gale nods.

"So you invented an elevator?" There is more than a hint of disbelief in my voice.

"Yes, Catinp," Gale rebukes me, grin back on his face, "I made a new design. I found a way to go deeper, safer." I nod, still not certain I believe him. His look reminds me of the times when he invented a new snare. Suddenly, it all makes more sense.

"Okay," I relent, "if you say so."

"What, don't think I can do it?"

"That's not what I meant," I'm suddenly sorry I might have offended him, "just…when did you do it?"

"In my spare time," Gale shrugs.

Gale walks over to Haymitch and the two seem to be discussing something important.

The camera crew is talking to some of the other miners. Gale's boss is not happy to have his site taken over by the Capitol, but he has no choice but to accept. Vivica starts bossing her men and the miners around. She tells most of them just to get out of her way and talks to guys about the set up and angles.

"How does it look from over here?" I hear her ask. "Better? Great. Now, let's get some of these men to work behind us. Oh I don't know! Do something natural." I can tell by the miners' faces that they don't like her. She is starting to film her intro when Cinna walks over to me.

"So, what exactly am I doing?" I ask for clarification.

"We're going to film the two of you go down in the new elevator."

"We just go down and come back up?" Cinna might not know this, but I hate the mines. The fact that they are tight, black, airless holes beneath mountains of rock aside, my father also died down there. "How safe is it?"

"If Gale's system is right, should be very safe. You trust Gale, right?"

"Absolutely."

"Remember that." He's being cryptic again. I don't like it. Someone calls Cinna's name and he walks over.

Unsatisfied with the answers I'm getting, I decide to go interrogate Haymitch. "What the hell is going on?"

"And a good morning to you too, sweetheart. How come you don't talk to me the way you talk to Cinna?" He tries to focus his glazed eyes on me.

"Haymitch, are you all right?"

"Just fine and brandy," he says, laughing at his lame joke, "get it? Brandy!" He laughs again.

"What's going on, Haymitch?"

"Hasn't anyone told you? Just a nice little piece to promote good… good, I don't know, goodness in District 12. Showing our people come together, working hard, doing things." His hands swim before him, trying to make some kind of grand gesture, but he fails, and takes another swig and then passes his flask to me. I take it. "It's important to reassure people there are no shortages here." His tone changes as he says this, and I realize it must be incredibly important.

Cinna and Haymitch must be in the midst of something big. I can see the toll it's taking on both of them. I want to ask them to confide in me, see if I can help. But I remember what they told me to do a few nights ago. Stay safe and play my part. They seem to have enough on their minds anyway right now. It's probably best if I let them be.

I bounce between steely resolve and anxious nerves as the time passes before filming. Cinna, Gale, and a crew of men are all talking about the elevator. Vivica is fighting with Gale's boss, who doesn't like her telling him what to do, and I know it's bad when Haymitch has to intervene. I sip some hot tea and watch Vivica film the rest of her intro. She gives some general facts about the mines and says how much deeper we'll be able to go if these new elevators work. Apparently, they are made a lot lighter and can go quicker and carry more cargo. I'm honestly impressed as I hear her describe it. This actually might be a moment worthy of national television. If these elevators are a success, District 12 will be able to increase its coal exports by ten percent. That means a good bit more money, and we desperately need it. Vivica also talks about that, and when she does, she's as condescending as ever.

Someone finally motions me over. I walk into view and but on my best smile.

"Katniss, you cousin invented this elevator, correct?"

What a stupid question, I think. "Yes."

"You must be very impressed?"

"I'm more proud than anything. Gale's always been really smart about inventing things. I'm just happy to see something that will make life easier for the workers. And produce more resources for the country." I look over at Cinna when I say this, hoping it had a good ring to it. He nods approvingly.

"Of course!" Vivica returns. She looks back at the camera and I assume she's done with me. A few of the workers lead me over to the elevator. A camera is mounted on its frame and there is barely enough room for Gale and me together. It looks like it's made from glass, but I guess this is the special new light weight material. I tap it, it sounds like thick plastic. I wonder where Gale read about this stuff.

I hear Vivica in the background talking to Gale now. He's does look good on the camera. He's smiling, not as nervous as he usually is. Basking in the glow of his success, I suppose. Gale soon comes over to join me and Vivica explains the revolutionary new design of the lift. Something about hydraulics, I think I hear her say. I look and do see what appears to be a kind of motor or something attached. All the other elevators are strictly mechanical. Ropes and chains and pulleys. I can see how a motor would help speed things up.

"Now, this is just the trial run," she explains, "but we want to see just how far down it can go and how quickly it can come back up. The inventor here says it can come back in a matter of seconds. Do you stand by your estimate?"

"We'll be back in less than thirty seconds," Gale says confidently.

"All right, folks, there you have it. The inventor himself and the most courageous girl in District 12 are about to brave new depths of this old mine. Small, lighter, and faster, Mr. Hawthorne thinks they can access areas previously unreachable to miners. Are you guys ready?" she asks us both.

Gale nods confidently and I try to copy his expression. Inside, my stomach is twisted with dread as I think about going into the mines. Being trapped underground is one of my worst fears, after what happened to my father. But I look to Gale for strength. His father also died in the mines, and he has to go down here every day. If he can do it, I think, so can I.

We both step into the box and have to press close to one another to fit. I look out and see both Cinna and Haymitch, who are waving at me. Strangely, it seems to me like they are waving goodbye.

Gale smiles at me brightly and I'm not entirely certain why. A man reaches in front of us and seals the door shut. Gale gives me a reassuring smile as he presses the button to take us down. He takes my hand with the other. I feel the elevator lurch, and hear the click click of the gears as we start to descend. I see the world outside slowly be replaced by darkened rock. I look at Gale a bit uncertainly as we go down. But his smile reassures me and I'm thinking how silly I am to be so nervous when  _BANG!_


	14. Chapter 14

The next thing I know I'm moving. I'm not sure how. My head is throbbing, I try to open my eyes, but the world flashes before me and I can't focus on a thing. I think I see light though. I'm being jostled around. I try and open my eyes again and slowly make out the forest floor beneath me. The forest? How did I get here? I try to look around again. I see trees flashing by. Maybe I hear leaves crunching beneath my feet. Wait. Not my feet. My legs don't seem to be moving. But the forest is rushing past me. The forest again. That doesn't seem right. How did I get into the forest? Details are colliding in my brain as I try to piece together the morning. Waking up, walking to town, seeing Cinna, the mine interview, the elevator. And the explosion.

The explosion! I remember a loud crash, flames, screaming. Gale! I know I have to find out what happened to him. I start to thrash, trying to find my own feet. I realize for the first time that someone must be carrying me. My hands feel a body beneath me and I start to kick and punch. The person was unprepared for my attack and we both stumble to the ground. Free, I try to make my escape. My head spins as I try to get up, but I'm not willing to lose the brief advantage I have.

"Gale!" I scream, sprinting off in the opposite direction. "Gale!" Panic floods my brain and my vision blackens. I have to lean against a tree to steady myself. My ears are still ringing, but I hear someone call my name.

"Katniss!" It's Gale.

"Gale!" I scream frantically. I can't tell where his voice is coming from with the ringing in my ears. Someone grabs me from behind. I spin around, ready to swing but stop myself when I see it's Gale. "Oh! Gale!" I throw myself into his arms. He embraces me. "Gale, I don't know what's happened. But something's wrong!" I don't even know how or where to start explaining, and it doesn't occur to me that I shouldn't have to as he was there the whole time with me. "Someone's after me, we have to go quickly."

"What?" Gale seems confused. I grab his hand, pulling him back towards town. "Katniss, no." He stops, I cannot move him.

"Gale!" there's a terrible urgency in my voice. Why doesn't he realize the danger we're in? "We have to go!"

"No Katniss, not that way, follow me," he tries to lead me in the opposite direction.

I suddenly hear my heart pounding in my ear and blink to try and clear my vision, but I can't stop the first few details from clicking together. I remember Gale's shirt is the same one I saw on the man trying to run off with me.

"Gale?" My voice drips with confusion and betrayal. I jerk my head from his and try to make sense of it all.

"There isn't time, Katniss, we have to go!" He grabs for me again, but I wriggle free. I start running from him. I don't know what's going on, and my head is too fuzzy to try and make sense of it all. But I know something horrible happened back at home. I hear the explosion, smell the smoke, see the flames. I don't know what, but I have to get back and see if everything is all right. An image of Prim flashes before my eyes and I panic. I have to make sure she's safe. It's the only thing I know right now.

It takes only moments for Gale to catch up with me. He reaches for my shoulders, but I swing around and stop him, hitting him square in the nose. We're going to fight if he wants to stop me. Red gushes and chokes his mouth. I hear him swear as his spits the blood away. I only gained a few yards, however, and Gale is again on top of me. He dodges my next blow and swiftly snatches me up. He's strong and serious, and I think back to some of the moves I learned in the Games. I claw at his face, drawing blood. He tries to throw me over his shoulder again, but I thrust my elbow in his face and wrench his thumb. This brings him to his knees in tears. I kick him hard in the chest and hear him gasp for air. I sprint off again. I think I might have a good start this time when he suddenly crashes into me. He must have lunged for me. He's on top of me and has pinned me to the ground. He holds my arms immobile above my head. I try to wriggle free but can't. He's too strong for me. But, I'm in battle mode. If Gale wants to fight me, I'm going to take him down. I knee him in the groin. He grunts painfully and falls to the side. He grabs my leg and I fall painfully to the ground. The twists me around and swallows me in an inescapable bear hold. I kick, but cannot do much damage from this position. He easily lifts me and starts to carry me off. I can't make my arms move, and his hold is so tight, it's slightly painful. I keep trying to wriggle for minutes, but it's no use. Gale is just too strong. With no other option, I start to scream. "Prim!" I yell, "Prim! I'm coming!" Gale moves one of his hands over his mouth to stop me. Just what I wanted. I clamp down on his flesh and taste the salt of blood. He tries to resist the pain and holds for a few moments. But I see the anguish in his eyes. Gale curses and finally lets me lose. He's on his knees, but I've underestimated his capabilities. He anticipates my next blow, and deftly grabs my leg and spins me to the ground. My face smacks into the earth. I try to get up, but I think he's angry now. He was apparently going easy on me before and I feel his full fury. He takes my one arm and painfully twists it behind me. I'm nearly paralyzed in pain. He's got his full wait on my legs, preventing me from getting up. I open my mouth to scream again, but he quickly reacts and pushes his other hand over my face. I can barely breathe.

"Don't you dare bite me again," he seethes. "Now, I'm going to tell you something and you're going to listen." I have no choice but to obey. "Your sister is safe, so is your mom. The Capitol wants your dead, and we have to go. Fast and far. So they can't find you." I try hard to process his words. I search Gale's face and know he is speaking the truth. I look up at him and see the scratches near his eye, the blood around his mouth, a gash on his temple. I try to understand all the information, but my brain is over come with adrenaline. My muscles twitch to keep fighting and my instincts tell me to keep calling for Prim. My heart, however, calms a bit, and it tells me to trust Gale. I look deep into his eyes to reaffirm this feeling, and I see the same friend looking down at me as I always have. I take a few deep breaths and nod. "Good," he says confidently, "now, are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way, because frankly, right now, either is fine with me." He slowly takes his hand off my mouth. I don't scream. Then he loosens the grip he has on my arm. I slowly pull it to my front and cradle my injured wrist. Gale releases some of his weight, which is considerable, off my thighs and onto his feet. I don't move, to prove I'm compliant and wait for him to rise. He watches me for a few moments, and when he's decided to trust me, he gets up and offers me a hand. I glance back in the direction of home and then back to Gale. I tentatively outstretch my good hand and he helps me up.

We run. I've no idea what I'm getting myself into.

                                                

* * *

 

We run for what seems like hours. I struggle to keep up with Gale. There are stitches in my side and I feel like air isn't reaching my lungs. I gasp for air and start to stumble a few times and we flee over large logs and rocks. We get deep into the forest and soon I don't even know where we are. Just when I think I can't keep going, Gale signals to stop. I stumble and fall as I brake. Gale catches me before I hit the ground. He gently lowers me to my knees and slides down beside me. We are both covered in sweat and blood. I unzip my jacket, trying to escape the heat and pain I'm in, drinking in the air. Gale's breathing is far steadier than mine. He takes out a water bottle and offers it to me.

"You…first…" I pant, "I need…air first…."

Gale smiles and takes a sip. "We can stop here for the night," he begins in a remarkably even tone. "I think there's a pond nearby for water."

"How do you know this part of the woods?" My eyes narrow at him. He only smiles and takes another sip before passing it to me. I try to drink, but mostly choke.

"Come on," he offers his hand to help me up again. "I think the pond is this way." My legs are like jelly, and I have trouble steadying myself to walk. Gale helps me. I try to refuse it, but cannot manage without him. I hate feeling inferior and weak. I can hardly believe it, but it's less than a five minute walk to a small pond. "Not a bad place for camp," he says, surveying the area. "We can put the tent over there, catch some fish for dinner…" He takes off his backpack and sets it on a rock. "We can get cleaned up and then – "

"No."

"What?"

"No," I repeat forcefully. "Before I help you, you tell me everything." I meet Gale's eyes and do not flinch. He measures me up to see how serious I am, and I can tell he realizes the answer is deadly. I sit down on a rock near the pond and look at another one as if to tell him to do the same. He complies.

We stare at each other for a few moments before I decide to break the silence. "What the hell is going on, Gale?"

He chuckles at my language. He's usually the one to use the swear words. It takes him a few minutes, and I let him compose himself. The smile slowly fades from his face. He cups some of the water from the pond and runs it down his face and through his hair, washing away some of the blood that's dried around his nose. My eyes do not leave him for a moment.

"I'm about out of patience, Hawthorne." My voice is steely.

Gale takes a deep breath and I brace myself. I know I am not going to like what he tells me. "We didn't have any other choice."

"Who is we and what do you mean?" I interject.

"I guess Haymitch and Cinna, mostly. It was their plan."

I'm not surprised that those two were involved. "What plan? To kidnap me?"

"To rescues you."

"What?" I don't like to think that I need to be rescued.

"Snow wanted you dead."

"That's nothing new. But if he was going to do that, he'd have done it already. Snow can't kill me now," I dismiss him almost with a laugh, "I'm too important. Too popular."

"He was going to send you into the next Games." Gale averts his eyes when he tells me this.

My heart sinks and I try to process what he's said. It doesn't make any sense. My first reaction is denial. "He can't do that!" I try to keep my voice from sounding like a shriek. "The rules don't allow it!"

"The rules can be changed, Katniss," Gale says gravely, "especially for a Quell." I'd completely forgotten that the Games were going to be a Quarter Quell. They were especially creative and violent Games held once every twenty five years. My jaw drops when he tells me this and I think I might be sick. I suddenly remember my conversation with Snow at the Capitol. "The plan was to send previous victors in, either together, or to pick one victor and send them in with a family member. I'm not sure if they decided which yet…"

I think my insides turn to mush. I feel the blood leave my body and am afraid I'll spasm. I must look horribly ill because Gale rushes over to support me. I feel physical pain as his words sink in. I was going back into the Games. Either with another victor, like Peeta or Haymitch, or with a family member, which I guess means Gale or Prim. I throw up as soon as I think her name. I push Gale off of me and wobble away. My hands clamp to my sides and I'm afraid I'll start hyperventilating. I fall down near the tree line and start to sob. I've tried my best to forget about the horror of the Games as much as possible this past year, push it to some back corner of my mind, but it all comes racing back and hits me full force. Tears come falling down my eyes and I can't catch my breath.

I scream when Gale touches me. He meant the gesture to be comforting, but it scared me half to death. I look down. I've dug my fingers in the earth, ripping away at rocks and roots in hopes of destroying something. I'm not sure how much time has passed, but I can see I'd been at it for some time. Gale looks at me frightened. He never watched the Games; I did my best to shield him from my pain. For the first time he seems how truly they devastated me. "Katniss," he says softly, leaning down to touch me. His voice slowly brings me back, "you're safe now. Don't worry. This is why we did it, to keep you safe." He gently brushes the hair from my face, wiping away a few tears in the process. He takes my hands in his, stopping me from grinding them in the dirt.

My eyes meet his and I say, "Continue." He searches my face to see if I'm ready for more of the truth, and I look strong to tell him I am.

He clears his throat and sits next to me, still holding my hands. "It turns out Cinna is pretty deeply involved in some Capitol based resistance group. When they heard about Snow's plan for the Quell, he knew he had to protect you and went to Haymitch. Haymitch told Cinna about your revolutionary desires, and problems with Peeta, but they knew that if pursued them, it would just cause bigger problems, and they needed as little attention drawn to you as possible if they were going to make this work. That's why Cinna planned the engagement. He knew it would be just the distraction they needed." A flame of anger burns in my chest when I hear that Cinna was behind that stunt. Even if I know it was done to protect me, I can't help but be angry. "Haymitch found me one afternoon and filled me in one everything. He told me that you were in immediate danger, and I of course agreed to help." I try and smile at him when he says this. When all the world falls to pieces, how is it I can always count on my friend Gale? "That's when he told me about Cinna's elevator plan. He designed it himself. Made from some special fireproof material. The design was pretty good, too, from what I could tell. They made me pretend it was mine and had me show the boss. I think it might have actually worked, too. My boss loved it. And we worked to build that prototype over the past week. Vivica then insisted filming it at Cinna's request. The whole thing was rigged. The elevator was designed to stop at one of the abandoned tunnels, and its material protected us from the fire that engulfed the camera and destroyed it after the explosion. I was ready for the explosion, but you were knocked unconscious. I'm truly sorry about that." I nod, of course, believing him, "I picked you up and ran out the tunnel, which came to ground out in the forest. Turns out there are quite a few of the old tunnels that come up to the ground. People used to use them as escape routes during the first war."

I never knew this before. I try to absorb all the information. It's so much I'm not sure what I think or feel. It's an elaborate plan, for sure, and it certainly worked as a good enough distraction to get us out in the woods. But I'm not naïve enough to think that means we're safe.

"And?" I finally ask him. He looks at me quizzically, and I realize my question might have been too general.

"Katniss, we escaped."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean we're safe! They'll come looking for us."

"No they won't, Katniss. Not for long."

"And why not? The Capitol isn't stupid. They'll comb this forest until they find us. Snow isn't just going to let his number one rebel disappear."

"You're right." Gale avoids my look as he says this.

"What? What do you mean?" I press him angrily. He's not making any sense.

"Katniss, they won't keep looking for us because they think we're dead."

“What?" I scream at him. "They'll never believe it!"

"Yes they will." He is speaking calm and evenly, but it does not sooth me or make what he's saying easier. "Cinna arranged for them to find out bodies. Matching clothes and DNA..." I'm sick as I think of it. Where did Cinna get the bodies? "Katniss, it was the only way…"

"I don't care!" I storm. "You killed me!"

"Katniss –” He thinks I'm being dramatic.

"I should have been told about this! I should have had a say!"

"You'd never have agreed to it!"

"You're right! That probably should have been your first clue not to do it!" I'm trembling as I think of what's happened, hardly able to contain my rage. They had no right to make this decision for me. “I’m not doing this. Running off like some coward, leaving my family." I choke as I think of them. I didn't get to say good bye! They must be so worried. Gale tries to comfort me, but I push him away. "No! Don't you dare touch me! You lied to me! Betrayed me! How could you do this to me, Gale?! How could you do this to my family!?" He looks hurt as I say this, but I don't care.

"Katniss, believe me, I understand how you feel!" If only my eyes could shoot fire. "It was an impossible decision to make, but it was the only way to protect you. And your family!" He adds, hoping to reason with me, but it doesn't work. I start to pace like a caged animal. I don't know what to do. "You can't go back. You'll endanger everyone involved!" My mind is racing and I think I might vomit again. "Katniss, please, just listen to me…" But Gale sounds like he's speaking from another world. I hear him beg me to understand, realize the danger I was in, see how it was the only way…but I try to block his voice from my head. I feel sick and am shaking.

"No," I sob as he reaches out to comfort me. "No!" Gale approaches again and I sink into his chest. He folds me in his arms. I cry, trying to process all the information. The horror of learning I'd go back in the Games, again with someone I care about…Haymitch and Cinna and Gale all conspiring behind my back…planning my death without telling me…The tears burn down my face. The more I think about it, the less I understand and the angrier I get. "I didn't get to say good bye," I cry.

"I'm sorry. I know, I know." Gale tries to comfort me, but it only makes me mad.

"No you don't!" I wail, shoving him. I start beating on his chest. Gale doesn't fight it. I hit him until my fists hurt and fall to the ground. Gale follows me down, and scoops me into his arms. He rocks me gently back and forth, and I try to sort out my thoughts. I think back on the day, and put everything I know in order. I understand now what was happening. I finally see Haymitch's big picture, and I even know he was right. I wouldn't have been able to keep up the charade with Peeta, and I probably would have gone crazy if I had to go back in the Games. I was useless as the face of the rebellion. Now, as a martyr, the people in the districts can believe that the Capitol conspired to kill me because I was a true revolutionary danger for whatever creative reason they choose. They can weep for me and be inspired by me. I certainly am more powerful dead. And that only leaves one more question left to ask.

"Why?" I finally ask.

"Why what?"

"Why didn't you guys just let Snow really kill me?"

"Katniss!" Gale is shocked. "Because we had to save you!"

"Yeah, I got that part. Why?"

"I don't understand what you mean." He looks at me confused.

"You pretended to kill me because I'm more important to the rebellion dead. I see that. But if you were just going to rip me from my family, you might as well have just let me go back into the Games and die. At least the people from the Capitol let me say goodbye." I see something break in Gale's eyes as the full force of my words hit him. I essentially just told him he was worse than the Capitol. And the worst part is that part of him thinks I'm right. "So let me ask you again. Why did you bother to save me?"


	15. Chapter 15

I'm back to where I was when I first returned from the Games: wishing I'd never survived. I think back on the whole spectrum of emotions I've felt since then. The despair of knowing life would never be the same. The fear and the horror of my memories. The brief flickers of hope that life would one day be good again. The joy of seeing Prim. The insane pressure of dealing with Peeta. The panic of the Tour. The confusion and chaos of trying to figure out what to do. The eventual purpose and pride of deciding that I wanted to be part of the rebellion….

It's all gone now. I'm hollow and hateful again and wish that people would just let me die.

Gale keeps trying to explain more, but I don't let him. I'm through listening to him. I scream hateful, hurtful things. I tell him he's worse than the Capitol for not letting me say goodbye. Worse than Peeta who never knew how he was hurting me. Gale knew. He knew and he did it anyway. I cannot forgive him for that.

I feel like I'm drunk. The world is swimming around me and I'm drowning, looking desperately for something to cling to. Or hoping I'll hurry up and sink.

Gale finally leaves me to storm, though he doesn't let me get to far away from him. I'm still half considering running. I try to mask my thoughts so Gale doesn't catch on. I'm pretty sure I can make it back to town. I know the direction to run, at least. I'm sure I'd recognize my surroundings once I'm close enough. I'd have to wait until night to sneak in, now that everyone thinks I'm dead, but I can slip by everyone easily enough. Get back to my house, collect my mother and sister. They'd be very confused of course, but I'd have to convince them to come out and live in the woods with me. I'm not sure what I'll say, but I can worry about that later. For now, I need to figure out how to get away from Gale. Reasoning with him absolutely won't work. He thinks he's doing what's best for me, I can't persuade him otherwise. I'll have to slip away. It'd be hard to dodge Gale though, he knows how I operate and he's an excellent tracker. But I could do it, if I had to.

He catches me surveying the tree line. "Don't even think about it," he warns. "I'll tie you up if I have to." I hate him in that moment.

I fought a few guys as big as him in the Games. There is no way I can match his strength, but if I can get my hands on a weapon, I could probably get the better of him. He'd be disadvantaged by his compassion; he would try not to hurt me, probably wouldn't use all his strength. That would give me an advantage, and add that with the element of surprise...if I can find a rock or something, I can definitely take him out…I feel like I'm back in the Games, sizing my enemy up and figuring out how to best take him out. I can't believe how quickly I've returned to being a cold and calculating killer.

 _Killer_? No, that isn't the right word. I would never kill Gale. Knock him out, maybe…Despite how betrayed I feel, he's still my best friend. Nothing can erase everything that he's done for me and my family, even now, I know he thinks he's acting in my best interest. He'll hate me for it, but one day, hopefully he'll see that it has to be this way.

And it hits me like a ton of bricks. It's like I've just been given a pair of glasses that make me see the world in a new way. Like I'm now looking at a maze from above that before I was lost within.

What I'm planning to do to Gale now is pretty much exactly what he just did to me. I think I know better than him. That I have the right to act without consulting him, hope that he'll one day understand why I think I have to do what I have to do. I think all the air is sucked out of my lungs and I'm not sure I can move. What was I about to do to my best friend?

"Gale," I struggle to say his name. "Gale!" I manage to scream.

"Katniss?" his voice is alarmed. He drops whatever was in his hands and rushes over. "Katniss, my god, what the hell is wrong?" He kneels next to me. I cling to him and start to sob uncontrollably.

Too much has happened to me today. Every thought inside of my head pulls me in a different direction. I don't feel like I can fit in my own brain and nothing makes sense. It's a time like this I need to be able to turn to the one constant in my life, the one thing I know I can count on. And that is Gale. I know he'll never hurt me. He will always look out for me, always take care of me. It's the one thing in this world I can trust. How can I even think about leaving him at a time like this?

"Gale," I repeat and repeat his name as he tries to calm me.

"It's okay, it's okay, I'm here." He rocks me back and forth, softly stroking my hair.

"Gale…"I look up into his eyes, brimming with concern. I see the dried blood under his nose, the scrapes along the side of his face, a gash above his eye. He suffered all of that by me…for me. He takes one of his hands and cradles my face. He has such large hands, I realize, as his thumb brushes away some of my tears. "Gale!" I grab his hand, suddenly moved by some urgency. "I thought about killing you!"

I can feel a soft laugh rattle from deep inside his chest. "Well, I pretended to kill you this morning. I guess that makes us even."

I look up and see that familiar grin. The one I think he only ever wears around me, and I know that everything is going to be all right.

"I'm sorry I bit you," I say after some time has passed and I can breathe again. I hear that soft rattle in Gale's chest again.

"It's okay," he smoothes my hair, "I should have known better than to think I could get the jump on you. You have every right to be angry with me."

"I forgive you," I say sweetly.

"Oh, I'm not apologizing." What? I crawl out of his arms and turn to look at him. There's a funny look on his face. Probably one on mine too. "I did what I did because I believe it had to be done. For you, for your family, and just possibly everyone one else in Panem. I won't say I'm sorry for that." I crook my head and give him an incredulous stare. "Look, Katniss, I wish we didn't have to do it this way, but we did. You know you wouldn't have agreed to this if we told you. You'd have tried to bring your mom, your sister and probably even her damned cat Buttercup out here with you. That would never have worked. The Capitol would have found you and killed you all. They are safer and more comfortable back home. They have your house and your money – which is a hell of a lot more than my family has – " For the first time I think about Gale's family. What will Hazelle do without him? Why did he ever agree to do this for me? He must read the concern on my face, "Don't worry," he says, gently touching my knee, "Haymitch has promised to look out for them. Look, I know this isn't a good solution, but it was the only one we had. Your family is safe and you're safe here…with me." His voice waivers for just a moment when he says this, and I'm not sure why.

I look at him like this is all new information. "Well," I look at him crossly, "If you'd just said it like that earlier maybe I wouldn't gotten so angry."

"That is exactly what I told you this morning." He defends.

"I don't think so," I say stubbornly.

"Yes it is. And we both know there is no way to stop  _you_ from being angry." He grabs me and pulls me back into his arms. I squirm and laugh as his light touch tickles me. I don't remember us being this close before. Back in his arms again, I realize I might like it.

We sit in silence until our stomachs tell us it's time to get up. Neither of us has eaten all day and the evening is pressing on. Gale helps me up and we go over to his pack. It's got a couple meal bars in it along with some other dried foods, but we both agree to save those for later. Now that we're by the pond, we should take advantage and go fishing. I go and find two sticks that will serve as poles as Gale rigs up the lines. I watch for something to bite as Gale builds a fire. I see him hold is side some as he bends to pick up wood. For the first time, it occurs to me that he's hurt. We never really cleaned ourselves after the fight. I didn't have too many scrapes, but it is clear that Gale is hurting.

I got up and walked over to him. "Here, let me do that," I say with an outstretched hand. Gale lets me pick up the fire wood and he carries it back to camp. "Do you want me to check?" I ask, eyeing his side. His dark brows knit together. This is the expression he makes when he's torn. He doesn't want to admit he's in pain, but he also needs the help. "Come here." I take his hand and lead him to the water's edge. I tell him to sit on a rock and crouch down next to him. For the first time, I closely survey the damage. I don't think I quite broke his nose, but I did hit him pretty hard. He probably bled a lot more than I realized. The claw marks aren't too deep, but should be cleaned, and the gash will definitely need some attention. I don't remember how I did that. I brought the medical kit over and look to see what it inside. Gale's trying to be stoic, but I don't fall for it. "You can't pretend like you're not hurt, Gale, I know you are. I'm the one who did it, remember?"

"Oh yeah, how could I forget?" His tone is laced with something I can't quite place. It's not anger, but I don't think Gale is exactly happy about what happened.

"So where'd you learn how to fight?" I ask as I clean the cuts on his face.

He laughs slightly. "I'm not really sure I did."

"Are you serious? You're pretty good."

"Please, " he huffs, "I nearly got my ass beat by a girl."

"Yeah, but I'm not just any girl."

He looks at me softly. "That's for sure." I'm not quite sure we mean the same thing.

I take a one of the alcohol wipes and start to dab. He winces, but only slightly, but I blow on the cut when I finish. I'm not really sure if it helps, but it's what my mother always used to do to me. After I've cleaned away the blood and cleaned the wounds, I apply some antibacterial cream. We're lucky we have this, I think about being back in the Games. When I finish with his face, I turn to his hand. The injury is deep and messy. I feel so ashamed as I make out my teeth marks.

"I'm really sorry I bit you." There is a note of pleading in my voice.

"Don't worry about it," he says. I can tell he's even less happy about this than what I did to his face. He tries not to show his pain, but he swears under his breath, looking away as I clean it out. It's really not that deep, but I know it hurts like hell.

When I'm finished, I bandage it up tightly. "There," I say, patting his arm softly. "Now, off with your shirt."

"Katniss…"

"It's not time to be modest." He still doesn't move. "Just let me see, Gale," I say with my eyes asking him to trust me. He starts to pull up his shirt, but his arms freeze before his hands are above his elbows. I see the pain written across his face. He wasn't protesting because he didn't want me to see, he was protesting because he couldn't. "Here, let me help you." I gently grab the tail of his shirt and softly lift it above his head. I try not to gasp at what I see before me. There is deep purple bruise across his one side where I kicked him in the ribs. I try to feel to see if I've broken any, but it hurts Gale too much to have me touch them. There's some mottled discoloration, something between a sickly yellow and green, across his chest from where I hit him with my fists. I remember how valiantly he took it my abuse. It must have been painful. "Oh!" I try not to tear up as I look at him.

He catches the change in my mood. "Katniss," he tries to comfort, bringing his hand up to my face. But I won't let him.

"No," I say. It's not fair to him. "I can't believe I did this to you!"

"Don't worry," he calms me again, "I knew what I was getting myself into…taking on the wrath of Katniss Everdeen."

And he somehow manages to coax a slight smile from me, even through my tears.

* * *

When we finish dressing our wounds (and I only say our because Gale fussed at me about the few scrapes I got on my hands while clawing at the earth until I let him dress them), we happily found our fishing lines full of food and worked on cleaning and gutting our dinner.

"We have to be careful with the flames," Gale cautioned me, "Haymitch said the Capitol will be searching hardest tonight. In a day or two, they should get the DNA confirmation from the bodies." I nod to show I understand. "It means we'll have to put it out at dark." Great, I think. Winter's on its way out, but the nights are still cold.

"Where did they get the bodies?" I can't help but wonder as I turn our fish over the coals.

"No idea," Gale admits, shaking his head. "I didn't want to ask. They were hidden in a compartment in the elevator floor."

"And the DNA?"

"Haymitch took some of my hair and blood. I don't know what they did about you." But I remember my prep team trimming me and cleaning my wounds just a few days before. Cinna had an abundant supply of Katniss DNA.

"Wow." I say, still trying to wrap my head around it all. "That's quite an elaborate plan."

"Yeah," Gale agrees. "I thought that it was some kind of drunken hallucination of Haymitch's when he first told me about it. He had to repeat it to me about four times before I'd believe him. Then I made him go through it one or two times more, just for fun." The grin on Gale's lips stirs one in mine. I can exactly imagine Haymitch, eyes narrowed in frustration, teetering slightly, scrounging all the patience he can muster to humor Gale in repeating himself again.

"How long did you know about the plan?" I'm not trying to place blame, I'm just curious.

"For two days."

"And you said yes that quickly? You didn't hesitate or have any reservations?"

"It had to happen, and it had to happen soon. Haymitch was quite certain that you were going to get yourself into a lot of trouble soon…" Our eyes lock and we smile. We both know it is true.

"I can't imagine making that decision so quickly."

"I know," he says between a mouthful of fish, "that's why we didn't ask you…"

"Ha ha," I know he's teasing. "Seriously, Gale, why did you do it?"

He looks at me like it's the most obvious answer in the world, but I'm still searching his eyes for a clue. "Jeez, Catnip, somebody had to take care of you out here. And your choices were pretty much either me or Haymitch. I'm not cruel enough to leave you with him…"

I laugh thinking of what it'd be like to be with Haymitch out here. "Oh yeah, I guess I owe you a favor for that one."

"I'll have to remember that…" He says, thinking of something distant.

"Did you…" I pause to consider my question, "did you get to say good bye to your family?"

"No," Gale shakes his head. I know this upsets him, but he's locked away his pain. "The Capitol will undoubtedly question them. They couldn't know the truth and lie for us. If the Capitol suspected them of lying…" He doesn't have to say the horrible things they'd do. My mother and Hazelle's grief will be very convincing because, to them, it's real. I can hardly bare to think of it.

"Will they ever tell them? Tell them it was all a lie?" I try not to let my voice break as I ask this.

"Of course they will," Gale leans towards me as he says this, "when it's safe." I look into his eyes and can see him willing this to be true, for my sake. But he doesn't really know for sure. I don't let him know I can sense his doubt.

I hesitate to ask him this, but I need to get all my questions out of the way. "Do you know…do you know what they'll do about Peeta?"

I see something flicker in Gale's eyes. He's still angry about the night he found me in the woods. For a moment I think about defending Peeta, but I know there's no use. "I think he believes we're dead too…"

"Yeah, but…but what about the next Games?" He said that only previous victors were headed in.

"Oh," Gale's voice drops, "I don't know. I'm sorry, I didn't think to ask."

I shrug to tell him it's okay. Not like knowing about it would make it any better.

"Katniss, I think the rebellion is coming pretty soon. Maybe even before the next Games…Peeta might not have to go in at all."

I look in Gale's eyes to see that shade of doubt, but I don't see it. He's telling me the truth. He honestly believes this could happen. "What makes you think that?"

"Because of the second part of the plan," he says in such a nonchalant way I want to smack him.

"There's a second part of the plan?" I almost jump on him.

"Oh, yeah, you never let me get to that part did you?" He's taunting me.

He thinks he's so cute sometimes. Too many girls from school have told him so over the years. I roll my eyes and sigh exasperatedly. "There's more?" I want to make sure I understand.

"Of course. You didn't think we were going to live out in the woods for the rest of our lives, did you?"

"Well, yeah…I guess."

"Really?" He says, more hopefully than dubious.

I don't let him have his moment. "Tell me!" I have to keep myself from screaming.

"Oh, well, we're going to District 13," he says as off handedly as if her were telling me the color of the sky.

"Thirteen! What? Really? Why? Where?" I sputter questions, my brain trying to absorb the information.

"Yes. Thirteen, yes again, to help the rebellion, and thirteen again." This doesn't make any sense until I realize he's answering each of my questions specifically, mocking me. I can't believe he's trying to be playful at a time like this. I toss a small stick at him.

"That's not funny," I narrow my eyes at him. He reclines against a rock, crossing his arms behind his head as if there's no more to say. "Gale!"

"Okay, okay," he chuckles and proceeds to tell me what I hope is everything. "There's been a rumor going around for a long time that Thirteen still exists. People believe that they moved underground after the Capitol bombed their city. That they are as strong today as they were before the Dark Days and that they are just waiting for their change to get revenge and take down the Capitol. Waiting for the next rebellion."

"So, what are we supposed to do?"

"We're going to tell them that the rebellion is here." Gale says this with a finality that frightens me. I'm not sure why. I wanted to help with the rebellion for some time, but I guess it was always theoretical. I seems so much more real now, now that there is a plan in motion. I think I liked it better as a plan in my head…when it was just me against Snow, not all of Panem.

"Us?" My head is spinning again. "Why us?"

"What better ambassador is there than the face of the new rebellion herself?"

"Me?" I think I should probably stop asking questions for today. My head can't take much more of this.

"It's definitely not me." Right. I'm a martyr now. I have to remember this.

"I just want to make sure I've got this right."

Gale grunts a sound of approval. "Go ahead. I had to ask Haymitch to explain it to me about a dozen times."

"My death was planned to 1, protect me, and 2, make me a martyr that would galvanize the rebel fractions and get a real war started against the Capitol."

"Yes."

_Okay_ , I think _, I can accept this_. "And the people in charge of the rebellion are hoping that Thirteen, hungry for revenge, will join their, or I guess our, side."

"Correct."

"Because me, I, the symbol or whatever, will ask them to."

"Yep. That, and give hope to all the good people fighting."

"What?"

"Come on, Katniss, think about the effect it will have to see their hero come back from the dead."

"Hero? Me? I'm nobody's hero."

"Your lots of people's hero, Katniss, especially after today. They'll rally to you, when the time comes…"

"This is too much…" I say, feeling dizzy.

"This is why I was telling you in small doses."

"Is there anything else you need to tell me?" I want to get it all out of the way.

Gale pauses to think, looking up as if scanning some imaginary list. "We have to lay low for ten days, that's when the search parties will be called off for good. I have a map that will take us to some safe houses as we make our way to Thirteen."

"Safe houses?"

"Yeah, apparently there's a network, people who've made it out here in the woods who help people escaping Panem."

My eyes widen and I don't know why I'm so surprised to learn this. Gale and I can't be the only ones who'd ever considered running away. And surely some have made it out here, eking out some small life for themselves. "Anything else?"

Gale thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. "No, I think that's everything."

"That's a lot."

"You're telling me."

We finish our meal in silence. Gale watches me curiously as I process all the data. I can't believe that only twelve short hours ago, I was back home, filming entertainment segments for the Capitol. That world seems like it's been gone for days. My heart pangs when I think of my family, but the anger that filled me this morning is already gone. Out here, breathing the clean forest air, I feel like a new person…

"What's so funny?" Gale interrupts my thoughts.

"Excuse me?" I'm confused.

"You were smiling," he explains.

"Oh, nothing funny." I hadn't realized I was smiling, "I guess, I'm just…." What's the word I'm looking for?

"I know exactly what you mean," he tells me before I can finish my thought. "It's getting dark, we should probably put out the fire."

I agree even thought I don't want to do it. The night air is already cooling down, and I've zipped up my jacket to my chin to try and keep in my warmth. Gale does he best to hide any trace of our little camp. He covers the fire pit with leaves and rocks, throws the fish guts back into the water, he eyes the little pile of medical waste, "we'll have to remember to burn this tomorrow," he says, carefully collecting every scrape and placing it in a tiny bag. "Getting chilly?" I nod. "Okay, let's set up the tent."

My eyes pop when I hear we have a tent. Even the smallest source of shelter will be of great comfort tonight. But where is it? Gale only brought the small pack with him. He goes over to it and pulls out a small bundle no bigger than an orange, and also the same color. I crook my head curiously and watch amazed as the pull of a small string causes the ball to jump to life and transform into a small triangular structure. It's barely big enough for us to both lay down in. In fact, I'm not sure Gale will be able to lay straight. "I hope you know how to repack that thing," I say getting up and sharing a smile. Gale's face flickers for just an instant, and I realize that he actually might not. "Well, I think that will keep us dry, but I'm so sure it will keep us hidden," I say, eyeing the garish color. "You didn't want to paint a target on top? That might be a little less noticeable."

"Yeah?" Gale teases, "why don't you check for me?" Gale quickly hooked his hand around my waist and pulled me to him. In less than a second, his hands are around my hips and he hoists me in the air. Gale is able to raise me a few feet of the air. I'm only up for a few seconds before the pain in his side causes his arms to trembles and he has to let me down. But while I'm up there, I see. Or rather, I don't see. I don't know what the tent is made out of, but it's some type of advanced camouflage material. From above, all I see are more leaves and rocks and boulders. This close, I can, of course, see the slight shimmer of the fabric, but I'm sure it would fool anyone more than a few yards away.

"Wow," I say, as Gale puts me down. "That should work nicely." I give him my nod of approval.

Gale next pulls out two very thin silver blankets. I eye them suspiciously. I'm already getting cold. Gale noticed my expression, "they reflect your body heat back at you," he offers.

"Got any pillows in there?" I ask, wondering what else he could have in that pack of his.

"I knew I was forgetting something!" Another smile has found my lips. I'm glad to see him at ease again. He seems younger, happier, more alive.

"You better be careful," I warn him, "you keep this up, and I'm going to think you're enjoying all this."

"Are you kidding, Catnip? Tomorrow's going to be the first day I get to sleep in in months." Gale dives in the tent, sliding as far as he can in the corner. I was right, it's just a little too short for him, but Gale doesn't mind. He's left plenty of room for me. I take off my shoes and enter our little encampment. Gale unfolds the first of the blankets. I'm surprised to realize they actually are very warm. I cover it over my body and curl up on my side of the tent, folding my arms under my head. "Comfortable?" Gales asks as our eyes meet.

"I've slept in worse places."

"Good night, Catnip," he says, eyes already closed.

"Good night," I whisper, but I think he's already asleep, and for the first time in a long time, I'm not afraid to follow.

 


	16. Chapter 16

Panic sets in as my eyes open. Where am I? Why am I not at home? I bolt up and focus on the small room around me. I'm in a tent, I realize, and I remember what happened yesterday. I place my hand on my chest, trying to calm my heart. My mother and sister are okay. They think I'm dead, but they are okay. I try not to think of the pain they are in, but at least I know they are okay. And I'm okay, I tell my heart, I'm okay, and my heart beat steadies. Gale! My heart is racing again. Where is he? I can't convince myself that something bad hasn't happened to him. I think of a million plausible things that he could safely be doing right now, but in my experience, it's always best to prepare for the worst. I stupidly look around the tent, as if maybe he could be hiding somewhere. But of course he's not there. Where could a man his size hide in a place like this? "Gale!" I dash out of the tent, eyes frantically searching the area. I run towards the lake, "Gale!"

He jumps out from behind a tree and scares me half to death. "Katniss, what's wrong?"

"Don't you dare do that to me!" I scold him as I pull him into my arms.

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry," he says holding me, "what's wrong?"

"You can't just leave me like that, Gale!" I yell at him, "I didn't know where you were!"

I see comprehension click in his eyes. I still don't think he entirely understands how horrible the Games left me. How I always expect the worst from the world. "I'm sorry." I look away, trying to keep tears from falling. "Hey," he gently takes my chin and turns it up to him, "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking, I just went to get breakfast," he says.

But no answer is good enough. I have learned never to cling to the smallest hope that something good will happen. Always assume the worst. I can't shake the fear that was building in my chest. Even though I see Gale before me now, just minutes before, I was almost certain he was gone. "You're the only thing I have in the world right now!" I yell at him, "I can't lose you!"

"I'm sorry," he says, seeing how terrified I actually was.

"You're the only thing I have in this world, Gale!" I repeat, looking into his eyes. I see he genuinely feels bad about frightening me. I want to apologize too, for being so sensitive, but as I think about how I could possibly explain all of it, I hear a strange rumbling sound in the distance. My first thought is thunder, but my brain knows this isn't right before I even look up to check the sky, which is clean and blue. Thunder, my brain finds that word again, only to reject it as I hear that sound. Why does it seem so familiar to me? I realize what it is only seconds before I see it.

It's one of the Capitol's hovercrafts.

I grab Gale and pull him tightly to me against the nearest tree. Gale's body tenses as he sees the danger. We hear the voice of men calling in the distance. Several yards away, we see the white uniforms, large weapons in hand, slowly coming into view.

Gale's eyes change, and I know he's ready to kill if these men get too close. He covers me with his body. Gale's over a head taller than me, and I never realized how broad his shoulders were until they are pressed tightly against me right now. He is completely shielding me, and I cannot see beyond him. I gaze up at him, hoping he will somehow feel the pull of my eyes, pleading him. He's carefully watching the men. He's wearing the same face he does when he's following prey. Marking every move, trying to guess the next. I grab his arms and try to pull him closer to me, and his eyes finally fall down to meet mine. There is anger in them, anger because I would stop him. I know him well enough to know this anger isn't directed at me. But it's a primal rage, something that taps into the old, animal part of the brain. I recognize it well as I have felt it many times myself when someone I loved was threatened. However pure his fury, I know that action now would be folly. Gale knows this too, and I think it only makes him all the angrier to know he could not stop these men if he had to. He'd die trying, we both know this, and I hope I can find a way for to prevent this from happening. Because if these men get too close, there is no telling what he might do. As he presses me tighter against the tree, and I realize how strong he is. I also realize that I could not stop him if I had to. I shake my head, desperately saying, "no," and Gale nods. He understands, even if he doesn't like it.

We are silent for untold minutes, holding our breaths and watching the men scour the land in the distance. By some miracle, they never get too close. Instead of moving closer to us, they continue in a forward direction, slowly disappearing in the distance. We collectively sigh in relief, and wait, tensed, for a few minutes just to make sure, but when the coast seems clear, we dart back to the tent. Gale pulls it next to a fallen tree deeper in the woods, wedging it as close as he can to its one side. He pulls a fallen branch to its other side, to disguise it as much as possible. The nature of the material itself keeps it hidden to any distant viewer, but it would be detectable if someone got too close. He pulls all our supplies inside and closes us in.

Gale can barely sit up the ceiling is so low, and he has to incline his head some to fit.

"I guess Haymitch was right," I whisper, and Gale only nods. Having abandoned the food he found in the woods, Gale pulls some dried fruit from his pack and we split it for breakfast. It's not long before we hear another hovercraft pass. We spend nearly the whole day in silence, hearing at least one ship an hour. With nothing else to do, I give up worrying and take a nap. Gale, however, does not stop his vigil. When I wake up, groggily, rolling over and looking around, Gale is still sitting as rigid and as alert as ever, looking absolutely ridiculous.

"Gale," I say, slightly smiling. I tug playfully at his arm. "Gale," I whisper again. He looks down at me, concerned. "Come on," I tug his arm again. He gives me a confused glance, but he lies down next to me. "There's no use worrying so much, there is nothing we can do, we might as well relax," I tell him, looking into his eyes, which are softer now, but still uncertain. As if he's afraid to let his guard down for one moment. I know this feeling too well. I've often held it on my shoulders. I wouldn't listen to someone if they told me this when I was worked up, but it pains me to see Gale this way. He takes on so much responsibility, for his family, for mine, for me, I wish he'd learn to share some of his worries with me, share some of his pain. That's what friends are for, after all, right?

"Just relax, okay?" I repeat.

"How can I do that?" There is an edge in his voice.

"One thing I learned in the Games, not to waste your energy on needless worry. When you have a chance to take a break, take it…." I see Gale process this thought; he cannot find a reason to disagree with me, even though it feels wrong to him. "The Careers had me pinned up in a tree once…did you see that part?" I know Gale avoided watching the Games when he could. He shakes his head. "Well, they chased me up a tree, but they couldn't climb as well as I could, so I went up as high as I could, tied myself to a branch, and went to sleep…"

"You've never told me anything about the Games before," he says. And I realize for the first time that he's right. I've spent so much time avoiding any questions people asked me about the Games, terrified at the topic of even thinking about it, but now, here with Gale, talking about it because I want to, not because someone has asked me to, it somehow feels natural. "Do you want to tell me more?" perhaps he senses my newfound willingness to speak.

I search my head for a something that is not too painful. "They made me wear a corset," I finally offer.

"In the arena?" he asks incredulously.

I try not to laugh too hard at the image of me running around in one of Cinna's gowns. "No, no, during the interviews. With my fire dress. You didn't see that part?"

"No," he admits, almost sheepishly, "I'm sorry I missed it," he says with a look I can't quite read.

"Yeah," I scoff, "well, you'll never get me into one of those things again..."

The next day is more of the same. I nearly go crazy confined in such a small place. My legs jitter and my fingers desperately look for something to do. I can't stay in one position for more than a minute. I cross my legs, uncross them, fold my arms, unfold them, inspect my fingers, sigh, lay down, get up, pull my knees to my chin. Gale looks exhausted just watching me.

"If I'm not allowed to worry," he says with a superior grin, "I don't think you're allowed to fidget."

"That's different!" I snap at him, and shift my position again. "How can you stand to be closed in here?" I ask him desperately.

"It's not all bad," he says, looking at me, "also, I have a lot of practice. This isn't nearly as bad as the mines." I suddenly feel horrible for complaining, when Gale spent most of the past year cramped in dark tunnels working like a slave. I make a mental note to keep my complaining to a minimum.

The third day, we only hear them once every few hours. The fourth day, only twice. Gale swears he heard one the fifth day, but I disagree. He tells me I'm just looking for an excuse to get out. We hear nothing on the sixth, neither on the seventh, and Gale tries to insist we wait one more day, but I tell him I'll kill him if I have to spend one more hour in this tent. He smiles and reaches over me, bringing his body very close to mine, and grabs the zipper on the entrance on the tent, and opens it, "there you go, Catnip, the world is waiting for you."

I nearly trip over him, I'm so eager to get out. I fly past him, eager to breath in the fresh air and look at a world that has no walls. I welcome the endless rows of trees, the tickle of the soft wind, the ability to stand. "Come on, Gale!" I call to him eagerly.

He climbs out after me, probably more excited that I am to be able to stretch to his full height.

"Race you to the other side of the pond," I say with a mischievous smile.

Gale returns it and doesn't even wait until I say go before he's running.

* * *

There are no signs of the Capitol on the ninth day either. Gale agrees to go out and explore the territory some. I convince him it is a smart move, so that we can know our surroundings, get our bearings, maybe even find some high ground to survey the area. Gale thinks this is a great idea, but I really just wanted an excuse to stretch my legs and get out and do something.

We spend the whole day out in the woods. I can almost convince myself that things are back to normal, the way they were before the Games. That we are just two Seam kids daring the wild. But I know this isn't true. I might be out in the woods with my best friend Gale again, but just about everything else in the world is different. I try not to get too sad when I think about my family. I try to trust that Haymitch will keep them safe. That he will provide for Hazelle and her kids. That he will make sure Peeta is all right….I'm not often one to believe in hope, but in this case, I have no other choice.

Gale spends most of his time carefully studying the map Haymitch game him. He's hardly ever had to use an electronic device before, and it gives him more trouble that he wants to admit. I probably wouldn't know how to use it either, if it weren't for my time in the Capitol. We hardly have anything electronic in the Seam. I smile as Gale curses the machine, jamming different buttons and wondering why it won't work.

"You'd think Haymitch would have checked to make sure it wasn't broken," he fumes.

I try and hide my amusement. "Want me to try?" I say as innocently as possible.

"Good luck," he huffs and tosses it to me, "but there are only about three buttons…" He looks away purposely, acting like he is doing something very important while I look at the small machine. I've never seen one like it before, but as I study the buttons, they start to make sense. Gale did figure out how to turn it on, at least, as the screen is bright, and that was the job of the first button. The second button only make the screen flicker, and I'm not sure what it does. And the third brings a strange menu to the screen with more options than I can understand. I realize there are no buttons to search or enter these menu options, and that doesn't make any sense.  _Why have options if you can't utilize them?_  I think. I know there must be some way, and if the buttons don't work…I try touching the screen. It works! I'm able to scroll up and down through the list. I hit the one button now that made the original screen flicker, and sure enough, it takes me back to the home page. I try to hide my jubilation as I alert Gale.

"Hey," I mask my pride, "I think I figured it out." Gale swings around and looks like he doesn't believe it.

"Yeah?" he frowns.

"Yeah, look, I think you have to have to touch the screen…" I try my best to sound doubtful. Gale comes over and looks at it over my shoulder. I press the home screen and it comes alive. Suddenly, we can see the terrain mapped out, and quite realistically, on the device. After a moment, two little dots pop up on it, which I can assume represent us.

"Wow," Gale says, and not bitterly. "A device without buttons, huh?"

I suddenly feel very protective of my friend. I can only imagine the way Effie, or my prep team, or even Haymitch would laugh at him for his naiveté. I'm glad none of them are around to do so.

"I guess those little dots are us?" he asks.

"Yeah, I think so."

"That's pretty neat, but it doesn't help us very much to know where we already are," he says tersely. I nod in agreement. Gale has a point. "Now, if only the machine would tell us where to go…"

"Where to go," an electronic voice beeps. "Calculating best route…"

Gale and I exchange a stunned look. Neither of us were expecting that. After a few moments, a thick yellow line snakes across the screen terminating in a distant, flashing point.

"I think this machine might be smarter than us, Catnip."

"I'd say so," I agree with a laugh.

Gale spends the rest of the day consumed with his little map machine. It's mostly amusing, at first. I try and remind myself how few toys he had as a kid. After playing around with, he discovers how to use many of the functions. It will tell us how much father we can walk before nightfall, where the nearest source of water is, and even has a feature which shows us the weather. I'm genuinely impressed, and thankful to have it, that is, until, we make the walk back to our camp. Which is in the opposite direction of that which the machine wants us to go.

"Readjusting route…" the little voice chirps, for about the twentieth time, "please turn fifteen degrees to the north and continue in forward direction…"

I roll my eyes. If Gale doesn't shut that stupid thing off… "Hey, Catnip, let's walk this way some, just to see what it does…" he says brightly. But I can't take it anymore.

"We know exactly what it's going to do, Gale," I turn around and snap at him. "It's going to tell us to go in that direction," and I point the way it wants us to go, "until we start going in that direction….at which point, it will probably just keep telling us to go in that direction…" I don't hide at all my annoyance.

"Okay, okay," he says, somewhat sheepishly. Gale turns the device off and puts it in his pocket. "Are you all right?"

I can't quite explain why the device irritates me so, and I feel a little bad for yelling at my friend. But all this sitting around for days without actually doing something is getting to me. "Sorry," I say in a voice that sounds like I don't really mean it, "I'm just…tired of sitting around."

"I know," Gale agrees, "that's why we went out today…"

But even though I'm actually moving right now doesn't mean I'm working towards something. "I just don't feel like we're doing anything," I try and clarify, and then I realize this is perhaps why Gale was so excited about getting the map machine to work – that was his version of doing something – and I feel like a huge jerk. "I'm sorry," I repeat, this time sounding more sincere.

"I get it, Katniss, I'm the one who told you you needed to have purpose, remember?" I give him a thankful look. "Don't worry, we'll be on our way soon enough." I playfully bump into him, to try and show I'm not mad.

It was a game we used to play. It started not long after we first met. One day, I was on the trail of a deer, which is not something we get too often so close to the District. Gale told me it wasn't worth pursuing, but I refused to relent. "Do you have any idea how much I'll get for it?" I told him hopefully.

But he shook his head. "Yeah, Catnip, but that's only if you can carry it all the way back to town…"

I hadn't thought of this yet, I was only thirteen at the time, and quite small for my age. I gave Gale a defiant look, I didn't like being reminded of my limits. I had decided to track that deer. It was mine and no one could convince me otherwise. I ploughed ahead. "What, you think I can't do this by myself?" I told him petulantly.

Gale laughed and said with a grin, "I know you can't." Anger flared in my eyes. I've never liked anyone telling me what to do, no matter how right they were. "Listen, it's not that I don't think you can't take it down," he tried to clarify, "it's just that you can't carry it back to town." I wheeled around and glared at him. But he continued, "you're just not strong enough."

"I'm strong!" I snapped at him.

"That's not what I said," he carefully explained, not trying to further provoke me.

"I can do anything you can do!" I asserted. I will always remember the expression Gale shot at me in that moment. Here I was, a scrawny little Seam girl, underfed her whole life, and made to look all the smaller by wearing her father's large hunting jacket, telling Gale, even then a full head taller than me and already developing his strong, muscular frame, that I could do anything he could.

He was half impressed and half amused at the guts I had, and he shook his head, laughing. "All right," he said, inviting me to a challenge, "prove it."

I remember being very nervous about how exactly I was supposed to prove it, but I didn't let my body betray it. What Gale thought about me was so important back then…I guess it still is, but especially then, I was always looking to show my worth. I narrowed my eyes, looking at him like nothing could shake me, and before the smile had a chance to disappear from his face, I lunged at him.

I like to tell myself that it wasn't his size that daunted me, but rather his reflexes. Gale was quick. He saw me coming. All he needed was half a second to adjust his weight and plant himself in the ground. By the time I hit him, he was as good as immovable. I tried though, for a good few minutes, shoving at his middle, trying to wrestle him to the ground. I finally resorted to pushing him, trying to pull on his arms and take him down. But despite all my efforts, I could not make him move. Humiliated, defeated, I finally gave up. Gale laughed, good-naturedly, to him it was just a game. But it made me furious. It was a reminder that I was weak.

"If you can't carry me, you can't carry a deer," he said, matter-of-factly. He wasn't trying to rub it in or prove his point, he just wanted me to know, probably for my own good.

"Yeah, but the deer will be dead. I bet I could carry you if I killed you," I spat with venom.

I think Gale felt bad for me. He agreed to help me track the deer, and when we finally took it down, he carried it all the way back, a good several miles, and I know he struggled a good bit towards the end.

Ever since then, and once we became closer, we would sometimes revisit that game. When Gale wasn't paying attention, I'd run up and knock him off balance, playfully bumping into his shoulder, to prove that I was an equal to him. "See, I can take you," I'd taunt. And he'd always agree.

"Remember when we first started that game?" I ask, suddenly aware of the present.

"How could I forget?" he grins, "that was the day I knew for certain you were a match for me."

"What?" I never knew this. How could the day that I utterly humiliated myself be the day he decided I was worth something to him?

"I made a total fool of myself!"

"No," he completely disagreed, "you proved yourself."

"Proved what?"

Gale shook his head with that expression he had when he didn't understand how I couldn't understand. I always wanted to point out how hypocritical that was. "That you were special."

"What?" That didn't make any sense. "All it proved was that I was weak and stupid."

Gale looked concerned, "how can you think that?"

"Because I had to admit that I was weak and needed you. That I couldn't do it by myself. I hated it."

"You know, needing people isn't all bad."

"Yeah, but you don't need anyone."

"Of course I do," he said in a casual, even tone, "I need you."

"How?" I honestly don't understand.

"After all this time, Catnip, can you honestly not know?"

* * *

We spent all of the next day gathering supplies for our journey. I beg Gale to let us start early, but he is resolute.

"Haymitch told us to wait ten days," he says as if his word was law.

"Yeah, but nobody really listens to Haymitch!" I pout. But Gale won't budge.

We hunt, and skin our prey. Gale builds a small fire and dries the meat while I go off and gather some nuts. Unfortunately, we had to eat most of our provisions the days we were trapped in the tent. We had no time to go out and hunt then. So now, we need to be as resourceful as possible, but luckily, that is something both Gale and I excel at. I try to persuade Gale to pack everything at night, but he insists we wait till morning. "Why pack things now when we'll have to repack everything tomorrow?" I know he's got a point, but I still glare at him impatiently.

I'm so excited to finally get a move on that I can hardly sleep. I toss about anxiously.

"If you don't stop moving, Catnip, I'm going to sit on you," Gale warns me.

"Sorry," I whisper, trying my hardest not to disturb him. But now that I'm forced to lie still, I start wiggling my toes. My legs soon follow, and I'm not even aware I'm doing it, until…

"Katniss…." There is an edge of annoyance in his voice.

"Sorry," I peep.

I lie in perfect silence, forcing myself to focus all my energy on not moving. I think I'm doing a pretty good job when…

"Okay, what's wrong?"

"I wasn't moving that time!"

"Yes, but I know something's wrong, and I can't sleep if you're upset." I start to wonder why that is, finding it very strange, when Gale presses me for more information.

"I'm just nervous, I guess." I hadn't really thought about it much.

"Why?" he asks, rolling over and catching my eyes. He knows I can't lie to him if he's looking at me.

"I don't know…" But Gale does not accept this answer. I look crossly at him. He probably knows why I'm upset better than I do, "it's just…." And I start to tell him all my worries. How we don't really know what we're doing, where we're going, if we'll make it, how we'll make it, who we'll meet, what they'll do to us. And, on top of all that, we don't really know what's going on back home, with the rebellion, with our families… "I mean, we're out here, cut off from everything and we have no idea what's going on or what is going to happen…None of this worries you?" I ask him earnestly.

"Of course it does," he says in that clean even tone he sometimes has.

"Well, what do you do to calm yourself?"

"I remember that I'm with you." And he looks deeply into my eyes. In the dark, I can't quite read his expression.

It confuses me, so I make a joke. "Oh, well, you know you're in trouble then..."

"That's not true," he says more seriously, "you know I won't let anything bad happen to you."

And I do. But that isn't what troubles me. "Maybe I'm more worried about how I'll be able to return the favor."

"If there is one person in this world I trust, it's you." I know he means it, even if I think he's crazy for doing so.

And I don't know what else to say, so we just stare at each other until we fall asleep.


	17. Chapter 17

For two days we follow that stupid yellow line, and I think Gale even got tired of it telling us what to do after a while. As our third day of hiking began, it started telling us we were close. It looked like we were on top of our blinking target for hours, I was getting ready to give up and tell Gale we needed to stop, when we see a column of smoke rising ahead in the distance. We both agree that this could be from the chimney of the safe house, but we also agree that it could be something far more dangerous, so we approached carefully.

As we crept towards the smoke, a stone cabin came into view. It looked well maintained, with an open porch and small vegetable garden to one side. Gale looked down at his map, and the pulsing point grew larger and larger, blinking fast and faster with every step we took.

"I guess this is it," I tell him.

He nods. "I hope they know we're coming."

Crap. I didn't think of that.

We continue at our slow and steady pace, cautiously approaching when I hear a strange click behind me and stop. I'm about to turn around when a strange voice addresses me.

"Don't even think about it." I'm not entirely sure what I'm not supposed to be thinking about doing, but he then commands, "now, both of ya, turn around slowly." Gale and I exchange worried looks as we swivel around and face the man behind us. He's a thin man with patchy, short hair and yellowing teeth. He's pointing a large weapon at us. It's old, made from metal, and the word rifle jumps in my mind, though I've never seen one like this before. I wonder if it's some antique, some remnant from the Dark Days…a weapon from the first war. He clicks it again, and I realize I should be more concerned with how much damage it can do than where it came from. "Who the hell do you think you are?" he says roughly.

"We…we were told to come here…" Gale begins shakily. I wish I could help him, but I don't know anything better to say.

The man, who is rather skinny and wearing clothes that don't really fit him, pushes Gale with the butt of his gun. I start to worry things may get out of hand soon, when a slam from behind us catches all of our attention.

"Oh, get off it, Teek. You know it's them…" A gruff old man says as he comes hobbling out of the cabin. He had a full, gray beard that hangs down to his rather round belly. He is wearing overalls, and a red shirt beneath, but most noticeable of all, is his wooden, peg leg which is mostly responsible for the hobble. He limps down the porch and comes over to us.

"You can never be too careful, boss," the scrawny man asserts, keeping his weapon on us.

"Pshaw," he dismisses as he comes walking around and gets in between us and the gun. He's clearly not afraid. "You'd be the two runaways from District, Nine, was it?" He says, eyeing us, not suspiciously, but seriously.

"No," Gale says, "we're from Twelve." And I'm thankful I have Gale with me, because that was probably a test, and I would have failed it, agreeing to whatever the man thought to get him to take me in.

The younger man, whose name I think is Teek, backs up a few paces, but he's still got his gun on us though a bit shakily. I don't think he's got a very good aim with that thing, and I'm thinking I could probably take him out if I needed to…at least, I could distract him long enough to give Gale the advantage…

"From Twelve," he repeats, "that's right…well, they'd told us yous were comin'," and his voice isn't quite yet friendly, like he's still figuring things out.

"Didn't say they was sendin' a boy and a girl though…" Teek interrupts, as he looks me up and down with a strange expression on his face. "She your wife?"

"No," Gale responds in a defensive voice as he takes a step closer to me. Teek still looks strange.

"Didn't say they weren't," the old man takes command of the conversation again, dismissing his younger friend. "My name is Brillow, and this is my place." He extends his hand to Gale, who cautiously accepts it. "We're happy to open it to y'all for a few nights, and help ya however we can."

"Thank you," Gale says a bit tensely.

"And that there is Teek." Gale nods to acknowledge him. Teek has lowered his gun.

"I'm Gale," he says, "and this is Katniss."

"Gale?" Teek squeaks with a strange little laugh, "isn't that a girl's name?" Gale glowers at him, but he doesn't seem to notice.

"Are yous hungry?" Brillow asks, leading us up to his house, "we just about got supper ready."

And I decide any man willing to share his food with us can't be all bad.

"So what made y'all decide to run from the Capitol?" Brillow asks us once we're at the dinner table with full plates.

Gale still hasn't relaxed from the earlier exchange, I guess he doesn't like having a gun put on him, or having his name joked, so I decide to answer. "Well, they tried to kill us," I say, which isn't exactly the truth, but, for simplicity's sake, "and we figured it was easier just to let them believe we're dead."

Brillow laughs heartily. I'm not quite sure why he finds this funny, but I like the sound of his laugh. It's deep and rich. A lot better than Teek's. Brillow seems to be a decent man, and he's a pretty good cook…I think I could like him.

"Why'd they want you dead?" Teek almost barks at me. Now I'm not so sure about him. He's got a wild look in his eye, is very nervous, and I think he's not quite right.

"Well…" I take a drink to give myself a moment to think. I wonder if I should tell the truth, but, I don't know how much they know about us, and after the little test about where we came from, I figure it's better not to risk it. So I tell them our story, at least, most of the major details.

"We don't get many girls out here." I'm not sure how I'm supposed to respond to that.

Gale, however, seems quite upset. He stabs his meat with his fork quite angrily when Teek speaks, and I notice he's not eating much. I think he's being a little harsh, it's not like the man actually shot at us…and it's probably not his fault he's strange. Who knows what horrific story led him to live out here in the woods….what terrible thing the Capitol might have done to him. Teek's an odd one, but I've certainly met weirder.

Brillow safely changes the topic, sensing the tension in the room. "Well, we don't get many people out here in general."

"How many do you get?" I blurt out, honestly curious.

"Oh," he pauses to think, "only a few a year, I suppose. Sometimes they come in groups, other times it's one or two stragglers…Not many brave enough to flee though."

I nod in agreement. "Where do most of them come from?"

"Oh…we get quite a few from Eight…some from Ten…every once and a while someone from Twelve…." And I stop to think if anyone I've ever known could have run away. "And most the other districts every now and again."

"Are they all going to Thirteen?"

"Just about," he said between bites of potatoes. My imagination starts to spin about what possibilities could be waiting for us there.

"How long have you been doing this?" I ask, looking to see if Gale is as interested in the conversation as I am. But his eyes are hotly fixed on Teek, who smacks his lips as he licks his spoon. Goodness, I think, it's hardly the time to hold a grudge. Teek's eyes meet mine when he realizes I was watching him, and I quickly look away.

Brillow and I keep up the conversation through the rest of the meal. I ask him how long he's been doing this, how he came to be a part of this underground safe house network. Turns out he's one of the few free men born in this world. His parents were the ones who ran away. They built this place, and he was born out here. He's never known the tyranny of the Capitol. It amazes me.

"And you," Gale finally speaks. We're all surprised and turn to look at him. "What brings you out here?" He's addressing Teek.

He crooks his head and licks his lips, reminding me of some strange kind of lizard. But Brillow is the one to answer. "We found Teek out here."

"He's a run away?" Gale asks.

Teek's head wobbles as he nods.

"You're a criminal?" Gale's tone is accusatory.

"Most people out here are," Brillow explains. "Those Capitol people of yours seems to have a lot of funny ideas when it comes to the law." And I shoot Gale a reproachful look. These people have taken us in. Why does he have to be so difficult?

"Yeah," I say, trying to ease back the conversation, "I just being out here makes us all criminals."

Brillow grunts in agreement as he shoves another pile of food into his mouth.

Brillow tells Teek to go get the beds ready after dinner and I offer to help him with the dishes.

"I'm sorry about my friend," I tell him when we are out of ear shot from the others.

"Don't worry about it. I know he's just looking out for you." And I think that is rather generous of him. "If I had you, I would be too," he adds. I'm not really sure what he means, but since he doesn't seem offended, I don't press the matter.

"Well, good night," Brillow tells us when we're finished. "This one's my room over here," he points to the first door down the hall as he starts walking to it, "Just let me know if you need anything…"

"Thank you," Gale says normally, and Brillow shoots up his hand to show he heard as he walks away.

"About time you started being nice," I tersely toss at Gale.

"I'm sorry?" He questions me, but I don't catch his tone.

"You better be," I say in no cooler a voice.

"No. That wasn't an apology. I mean, excuse me?" And he exaggerates his voice so I understand this time. Since I'm already a bit upset with him, I find this insulting.

"These people are helping us, Gale…would it kill you to show a little gratitude?"

"I said thank you!" he defends.

"Yeah, only after spending most of dinner glaring at Teek!"

"I don't like him." He says as if that is a completely legitimate excuse.

"I don't like lots of people, Gale, that's not an excuse to be mean!"

"I don't like the way he looks at you."

Oh please, now he's just being ridiculous. "You don't like the way he looks at me?" I repeat, almost mocking him. "What…are you afraid he can turn me to stone of something," I jokingly dismissing his concern.

But Gale's look is so serious, it makes me uncomfortable. "Katniss, please, this is no time to be naïve!" There is an urgency to his voice that scares me.

And I realize that I don't know what I don't know…and I suddenly feel insecure. I look up at Gale, my eyes full of uncertainty and fear, about to say something when Teek creeps in the room.

"Everything's ready for ya," he says, looking down and making circles on the floor with his foot. He keeps his eyes on the ground, "Just this way," and he points out the room. Gale takes the lead, and he stands very close to Teek as he walks by. Gale is a full head taller than him, and he probably weighs at least fifty pounds more...and most of that is pure muscle. I follow very closely to Gale, and Teek comes after us. I swear I can feel his breath on my neck. Can he be that close to me? Or am I going crazy. "We only have one spare room," he mumbles as we making it to the living room. His words sound almost wet. I no longer look at the man with pity, but disgust. "I thought we'd give it to the lady." Now, I feel kind of bad, because that was thoughtful of him. Has Gale just made me paranoid? "You can sleep on the couch," he says to Gale, eyes still glued to the floor. He's left a few blankets and a pillow on it. Gale grunts something affirmative. "Your room is this way." And his eyes look up to mine for the first time. I try to look at him kindly, and he does something between a cough and a smile.

Gale watches protectively as we head down the hallway. My room is the first door opposite Brillow's room. Teek leaves me at its entrance. "For you," he points inside.

"Thank you," I say. And without another word, he disappears down the hall.

I look back to Gale, perfectly visible, only a few yards away in the living room. I nod to him, telling him it's okay, and go in my room to shut the door. There's a small window in the corner with a bed under it. It's got a two pillows piled on the end and is made with several warm blankets. Next to the bed is a nightstand with a glass of water on it, and across from the bed, next to the door, is a dresser. It has a nightgown on top of it. It looks old fashioned, but I don't care. I pick it up and find a pair of thick socks below. I knew Teek was a nice guy, I think to myself, really weird, but nice…Gale's got me all worried for nothing. I change into the night clothes and crawl into bed. It's nice and warm, and I haven't felt anything thing this soft in days…I snuggle down into the bed and close my eyes trying to find sleep.

But it doesn't come. My brain is pouring over everything I learned today. The existence of entire families born outside of the Capitol's reach…a network or friendly people trying to help escapees get to Thirteen…And Thirteen! I wonder what awaits us there… My mind is spinning when I hear a strange creak. My eyes jump open. My door is still shut, I'm safe. And this is an old house, I tell myself, I'm sure tons of things creak. But I can't shake the fear that is now fluttering in my chest. I curse Gale for making me feel so uneasy…he's going to hear about this in the morning…

Then I hear the sound again. It's small, but it sounds so close. Or it's large and far away, I tell myself. Because that makes sense, right? I look out and scan my room. I can make out the closed door and dresser in the dim light. Everything looks normal, quiet, calm. I close my eyes again and try to think of Thirteen…but I can't shake this uneasy feeling I have…like someone is watching me. I shutter now when I recall how Teek looked at me earlier, up and down, chewing on his lips. So gross, I think…and I'm so mean! I press my hands to my face, trying to distract my brain, but the angry, fear mongering butterflies in my stomach won't go away. Katniss, you're being ridiculous, I tell myself. Look at that closed door, right there. You are safe. Everything is fine. And I can't ignore my own logic. I sit up in bed and take one final survey of the room to appease myself. See? Nobody else is in here…you're alone. Now go to bed! I take a deep breath and lay back down, closing my eyes again. I can't keep the idea from popping in my head. Damn it, I curse myself. There is one final place I have not looked: under my bed. And now that I've thought about the possibility of some monster being under there, I cannot ignore it until I know for sure. I feel like a stupid, little girl. I wish I could call my parents in to come check for me. I know I could call Gale, but I don't want to look that foolish. You can do this, Katniss, I tell myself, taking a deep breath as I rise. Or not, that's good too, as you know perfectly well there is nothing lurking under your bed. I throw my feel down on the floor, sink to my knees, and grab the covers… And now you'll know that for certain…I toss the covers aside…that nothing is under here…And nothing is under there, I see, as I look from one end to the other. I exhale a deep breath of relief and chuckle softly, thankful this room doesn't have a closet. I quickly double check to make sure. It doesn't. Okay, Katniss, I tell myself, time to push all this silliness aside and go to bed now…now that you know for certain that there is no one in this room watching you. I can't help but feel like such a silly fool as I push myself up off the floor, rising next to my bed.

And that's when I see him.

Face smashed against my window...nose pressed right into the glass…mouth sucking like a dying fish…and eyes…eyes staring directly at me.

I have to put my hand over myself to keep from screaming.  
I nearly trip over myself trying to run from the room. I yank the door open, my socks sliding as I try to hold the ground. Part or my brain tells me to look back, see if he was really there, but a bigger part of me can't bear to do that. I don't look back. I wasn't dreaming. Wasn't imagining. He was really there. And I never want to see him again.

I fly down the hallway and into the living room, braking as I near the couch. I look down and see Gale, sound asleep, and suddenly hesitate waking him. What will I tell him? Do I tell him the truth and risk his anger? Gale will want to act, that is for sure. I'd want to as well if anyone hurt him. But I'm not sure we can risk that…We don't know enough about these men…or the entire safe house network. Is it possible they are all in contact? No, it is best not to upset things here. So do I lie and risk our friendship? We've both lied to each other before, but I still can't help but feel that it is wrong. I walk as quietly as possible and sit down by his face, trying my hardest not to wake him, and I work over my ruminations.

My heart is beating a hundred times a minute and I think for a moment my chest might explode. I try to take calm breaths and tell myself I'm not in any danger…he was just watching from outside a window…but I can't help but feel violated. I want to take a shower, scrape off my skin…I'm not sure how I'm going to get through tomorrow having to look at him. The tears are coming now, great. I'm about to try and get up, so that I don't wake Gale. As I rise to leave, Gale reaches out to me. I nearly scream he frightens me so much. I fall back to the ground.

"Christ, Gale!" I say harshly, but quietly, "you scared me half to death!"

But he sees the tears and doesn't bother with the apology. "Katniss, what's wrong?" I'm beginning to feel bad about how often I hear this.

I try not to cry, but I don't know what to say, and with nothing to say, the tears pour out of my eyes. I don't know what to tell him. Gale sits up on the couch and guides me next to him. I curl up in a little ball, tucking my knees under my chin, like I always do when I feel unsafe. He wraps his arms around me and I bury myself in his chest, trying to muffle the sound of my sobs. Gale holds me, for minutes, and I keep waiting for him to ask me what happened. And he doesn't. And then I realize that he's probably waiting for me to be ready to tell him. And I'm grateful. Maybe I have misjudged his anger. I take Gale's hand in my own and start to focus on it. I place mine up to his. My entire hand almost fits in his palm. When did his hands get so big? He has such capable, strong hands. Mine are nothing next to his. I look over all the little scars, I used to know every single one. The jagged white line down his index finger where he cut himself when I taught him how to make arrows. I remember him cursing and me laughing…The textured scar of the three puncture wounds down by the pinky side of his palm. He got those from a very unhappy raccoon caught in one of his snares after I suggested he design some that trapped the animal alive. I thought it was more civil to kill the animal quickly rather than let it suffer. They were designed to kill instantaneously, but this didn't always happen. So he designed his new cages, and trapped the raccoon, very alive and very angry, and when he tried to pull it out to wring its neck, the creature was ready for him. It snarled and took him by surprise and sank its teeth into his hand. And if that wasn't bad enough, my mother had to give him rabies shots after. Right in his stomach. Gale killed a lot of raccoons in the following weeks, I think hoping he'd hit the one that bit him. And he never designed another live snare again. He just improved upon the killing techniques of his old ones. It was better that way, he told me, I had to agree….There is the pink burn on the top of his three middle fingers from when he tried to do laundry for his mother when she was very ill. He had no idea what he was doing though, and seared the top of his hand on the boiling pot. Luckily, all the clothes turned out okay because, if they hadn't, there would have been no way Gale would have been able to pay…..

"How did you get this?" I ask, coming upon one I don't remember, a long, wide white patch on the top of his hand.

"Hmm?"

"This scar," I say, suddenly aware he doesn't know what I'm talking about, "how did you get it?"

"Ahh," he says with a hint of a laugh, "I got that one courtesy of Lady while you were in the Games. Prim came running to my house one morning, an inconsolable mess. Terrified me, I thought something had happened to you, but I eventually got it out of her that Lady the goat had run away. Prim was worried someone had stolen her to eat her…I felt bad because I couldn't assure her otherwise. But I took her hand and we went out looking. Turns out she just got loose and caught her foot in a bunch of barb wire scraps near Roy McGillert's place..." Kids jokingly called Roy McGillert the collector, his property was piled with all sorts of strange odds and ends that he pulled from people's trash. Some of it he was able to turn into useful things and sell, but most of it was just junk. One thing was for certain, though, all of it was his. So if he found Lady on his land…."Lady was panicked, trying to pull herself out and bloodying up her leg in the process. I tried to carefully free her, Prim was freaking out, crying that the goat was going to lose her leg, and the damn goat was squirming so much, knocking my hand into the barbs, it got all tangled, Lady was just about free when we heard Roy coming, and I knew we had to flee. I got Lady out, but there was no time to loosen my hand so I just yanked it, losing a good chunk of skin in the process. I picked up Lady and Prim and ran just as Roy came around the corner."

"Oh Gale!" I never heard this story, I looked down at his poor hand, softly touching the spot oh his injury as if maybe I could polish it away.

"Don't worry, Catnip, it doesn't hurt. The only scars that hurt are the ones you can't see."

Another one of his cryptic messages. I look up to his eyes, trying to find meaning in their depths, but he's not open to me. He never is. That wall is up again; that one I'm not allowed to cross – that one I don't think anyone is – but I can't help but wonder, what does that say about me as a best friend, if Gale won't even let me in?

"We used to tell each other about all our scars…" I say, "we used to tell each other everything…."

"We still don't?" Gale seems genuinely confused.

I swing myself around, folding myself on his lap so we're face to face, and stare directly into his eyes. "You don't," I tell him.

He doesn't seem to understand, and he crinkles his brow slightly that way he does when he's working something out. "Well, what do you want to know about, Catnip," he tries to make his voice sound playful, to cover up the distance.

"You don't talk to me anymore, Gale."

"Aren't we talking right now?"

"You know what I mean."

"No. Actually I don't." He's getting a bit defensive.

"It's a one way street. I talk to you. Tell you my problems, tell you my fears and worries and concerns…"

"Let me get this straight," he stops me, "your problem is that I don't tell you about my problems?" Well, it sounded ridiculous when he said it like that.

"Well…yeah…"

"Katniss – "

"Gale!"

"You want me to tell you my problems?"

"Yes!"

"Well, right now, it's that I don't have the slightest clue what you're talking about!"

I want to shake his head he's frustrating me so much. I roll my eyes and sigh in annoyance. Why is this so difficult? I try to think of a way to explain. "You don't let me in, Gale."

"In where?"

"In your life!"

"What? Katniss, right now, you are my life!"

"Sometime, I don't feel like we're very close," I try again.

"How are you not in my life? How are we not close? There aren't many ways you and I could be any closer than we are right now." He gestures to our physical proximity.

"I don't mean physically." I explain.

"What more do you want from me?" He's getting frustrated. "What more can I possibly do for you?"

"You could let me help!"

"Help with what?"

"That's just it! You don't need my help!" And I have to turn my head away as I start crying again. Gale doesn't need my help. He never has. He can do everything by himself. Hunt, work, support his family. I feel like I'm that same twelve year old girl trying to prove her worth…and always failing. I don't know why he let me hang around. Why he's tolerated me for so long. All I've ever done is caused him problems. "I know you don't need me…" I sob.

"Hey," he rocks me a little bit, "that's not what I meant."

"No. It's true. You don't need me, Gale, you never have. There is nothing I can offer you…"

"Katniss," he tries to comfort me, but I get up and push him away.

"No! It's not fair…not fair for me to keep – "

"God damn it," he interrupts. There's anger in his voice, real anger. Not the mild annoyance he shows sometimes with his siblings, but hot ire. "I left my family to come out here with you…"

"I know," I sob, "how can I repay you for that?" I feel guilty, like he's accusing me.

"You don't owe me Katniss! For Christsake! I'm not telling you that to make you feel bad, I'm telling you to show you how much I care!" He gets up and paces, straining to keep his voice low. "You don't owe me, you don't owe Peeta, you don't owe anyone in the world but yourself! When are you going to realize that?" I try to meet his eyes, but I'm not sure I can hold his stare. This doesn't entirely make sense to me.

"Don't be angry…" I start to plead. I'm not sure why, I just can't help feeling like this is all my fault.

"Don't be angry?" he fumes, "Forgive me for getting upset when the person I care most about this world tries to tells me I don't need her!" His words make me uncomfortable, and I shift awkwardly on the couch. "When Prim came, running and crying to my house that morning," and he holds up the back of his hand, pointing to the scar, for emphasis, "I thought you were dead! I thought she was crying because you had died in the Games. And it was the worst feeling in the world…Because, Katniss, what you do for me, the reason I need you, is because you give me a reason to get up every morning…give me something to look forward to in this horrible, miserable world! So you don't get to pretend like you don't matter, like we don't matter…not after everything we've been through!" I look up at him, watching him pace, to see if he's finished, but I can tell he's still storming. "Katniss," he demands my attention, "if the only reason you're staying with me, if the only reason you've ever been with me, is because you need my skills or my help or my services, you let me know. And you let me know now."

I don't know how to respond to this. I'm not sure if I've ever even thought of it before.

"Gale," I plead, "you're my best friend."

"Why?"

And I suddenly can't help laugh. Gale glares at me, like I'm insulting him. "Are we really fighting about if and why we're best friends?" I say though my giggles. I don't know what's come over me. Maybe it's because I'm tired, and maybe it's because Teek freaked me out, or maybe it's because we're talking about this in strange man's living room, but the whole thing seems incredibly funny to me at this moment.

Gale tries to keep a serious face but only holds on to it for a moment. Soon, he's laughing along with me. "Yeah," he finally says as he sits down next to me. "I don't even remember why you came in here in the first place."

"Oh," I say, laughing even more because it seems so funny to me now, "I came to get you because I was frightened because I saw Teek starting at me from outside my window." I look at Gale, smile still on my face and watch his disappear.

"What?" And that anger is back again.

I convince Gale not to go after Teek that night, it took a good bit of talking, but he eventually listens to me.

"I don't like it," he says.

"I know," I tell him, stroking his head as he lies next to me. He only agreed not attack Teek if I stayed on the couch with him. Which is fine by me. I think I'm starting to like sleeping next to him, anyway.

We wake up with Brillow the next morning, and I offer to help him with breakfast. He's got a chicken coop somewhere on his farm, and we go out to collect eggs.

"Sleep well?" he asks, and I wonder if he heard Gale's and my fight.

"Yeah," I say, somewhat sheepishly, but he doesn't press the issue.

"Teek didn't bother ya, did he?" he asks off handedly, as he bends down to get the eggs from the lowest nests.

"Ohh…."

"He's a weird feller, but he's harmless."

"Yeah," I respond in something that's half a question, wondering if I should tell him how Teek appeared in my window last night. I have to keep myself from shuttering at the image.

"Yeah," Brillow started, rubbing his good knee as he got up from the reaching for the nests on the floor, "Ohh, about twenty years back now, a woman came through here, escaping from the Capitol who was torturing she and her husband. They done something mighty awful to piss them off. The man died protecting her, so she could get away, and my wife, rest her soul, found this woman wandering out her, half crazy and round with child…" I suddenly realized where this story was going. "Capitol was testing some new torture out on her, some sort of nerve gas that made her head all wrong. We tried to care for her as best we could, but she was a lost cause from the moment we found her. The baby came early – too early – I never thought he'd make it, the mother didn't, but he did, by some miracle." I realize that he is Teek. "Well, whatever gases they used on her musta seeped into him because he ain't never been right. But my wife loved him like a son, rest her soul…"

I nod at him with understanding and respect. He doesn't say anything else as we make our way back to the house.

Brillow insists on making the breakfast, so I set the table while Gale folds the blankets on the couch.

"Sure you guys won't be staying a few more days?" Brillow asks as he brings the food from the kitchen.

"No." Gale says authoritatively, "we're leaving today."

"We don't want to wear out our welcome," I say, trying to make it sound nicer.

"Well, it's no problem either way," Brillow clarifies, "we don't get many visitors." I look in the old man's eye and feel a twinge of sadness. Maybe we should stay a little longer.

"Yeah," Teek wheezes, "specially girls."

Nope. We're leaving today.

Brillow gives us another pack to carry and fills it plus our original with supplies. I think him kindly about a dozen times, and Gale respectfully shakes his hand. Teek is hanging around a porch banister, sucking on his lips as we start to walk away, reminding me even more of some sort of lizard. I find it in myself to wave good bye to him. He sticks his tongue out quickly and slurps it back in. I shudder and step closer to Gale. He takes out the map machine and hands it over to me.

"Here," he says, tossing it over to me. "You figure out where we're supposed to go next."

"Why me?" I ask him.

"You're the one who wants to help." He says, I know in a reference to last night.

Very funny, I think, as I start to play with the machine, he's going to make me regret saying that.


	18. Chapter 18

The map machine tells us, once I got it to work again, that the next house, or blinking dot, I hope it's a house, is a five day's hike away. Gale and I try to be frugal with our supplies, because we don't know for sure that our next hosts will be generous. Luckily, Brillow gave me an old bow of his, and why it's not nearly as up to par as my own, I'm itching for a chance to use it.

Spring is finally setting in, and it's still painfully cold at night, but at the brisk pace of our hike, we get warm enough to shed our outer jackets. The ground is starting to grow green again and the trees are filling with leaves. I hope this means we'll start to see more animals around to hunt and maybe find some fruit and nut trees to scavenge.

"We're going to need to find water soon," Gale says on the second day.

I nod, taking out the map. "Find nearest water," I say clearly into the screen.

"Finding nearest water source…" the electronic voice reads, "calculating best route…." A little purple circle spins around the screen until a blue line appears, jutting above and away from our yellow route. "Closest water source…six miles north by north west…approximate time of travel, three hours…"

"Damn," Gale swears under his breath, "that takes us back a bit in the opposite direction."

"At least it's only a few miles," I offer. But there is nothing either of us could do about it, so we start off in that direction.

"Tell me something, Gale," I ask, trying to break the silence, trying to find some way to get him to open up to me.

"I hate pickles." He says without hesitation.

"What?"

"Yeah, I hate them. I hate most pickled things."

"But I've seen you eat them." And I realize the stupidity of my statement as soon as I say it.

"Of course. Because I was hungry. When this is all finished. When the rebellion is over and the Capitol is gone, I want to live in a world without pickles."

I can't help but laugh. "Pickles, hunh…I never knew…Anything else I should know about you, Mr. Hawthorne? Any secrets or stories?"

He says without looking back. "I think you know all my stories, Catnip, you were there for most of them."

"And your secrets?"

"Jeez, Catnip, I'm beginning to think you think I lead some sort of double life…" He turns around playfully.

"You could…I'd be the last to know."

"That's for sure," he says, almost under his breath, "What exactly do you think I'm keeping from you?"

"I don't know…Something rougeish."

"Rougeish?" He laughs, "I'm not sure that's a word."

"It is," I assure him, "and you could be off rougeing all the time, for all I know."

"I could," he admits, "I sneak off every night, you know, and go rouge with the squirrels…"

"Not now, of course," my tone says that only he is being silly, "but before."

"Ahh yes, after all my shifts at the mine you mean?"

"Maybe…" I think he sees that I am actually serious. "Or before that…"

"Ahh, you're right," he says, his tone somewhat of a mystery, "I was a rouge back then."

"You were?" He smiles because I believe him.

"Lots of people thought so," he confesses honestly.

"Why?" I really want to know.

"Because," he pauses, making sure he catches me eyes, "I spent all my free time out in the woods with you."

 _Oh_. I think. _What did people think we were doing out there?_ "What did people think we were doing out there?"

Something sparkles in his eyes, some little mischievous glow. But I still look at him blankly. "Well, I guess no one would have said it to you."

"Said what?"

He laughs and I start to get angry. I jog up next to him so he can't ignore me. "What, Gale?"

"They just thought we were…." He pauses, shaking his head and carefully considering his words, "you know…." My eyes widen at him, waiting instead of understanding. "Just…like really brave and stuff…for going out in the woods…trading at the Hob…taking the risks and stuff."

"Oh," I say, that makes sense. But he quickly darts his eyes away, and I know he's hiding something. "Wait," the gears in my mind are turning. I never bothered to think what people thought we were doing out in the woods because, well, I knew what we were doing. "There's something you're not telling me." That wasn't exactly a question, so Gale doesn't answer. I huff in frustration. "Gale!" I demand.

He chuckles and looks at me slyly, but doesn't offer anything more. I remember Madge asking me once what we did out there. There was an excited sort of tone in her voice, and she rolled her eyes when I told her all we did was hunt.

"Really?" I remember her saying, like she couldn't believe me.

"Of course," I insisted. "What else would be we doing?"

"Oh, Katniss," she sighed, "You've got Gale Hawthorne all to yourself. And all you do is hunt!"

 _Of course_ , I thought, _what else would we be doing?_

And Peeta too. He never lost that jealous edge no matter how many times I told we were only friends.

"Sex!" I blurt out, as soon as the thought hit my head.

Gale stops in his tracks and turns to look at me. "Excuse me?"

"Sex." I repeat.

"That's what I thought you just said," but this doesn't seem to help his understanding.

"They thought we were having sex!" it suddenly makes sense to me. I kick Gale out of frustrating and shove his chest. "You let people think we were having sex!"

"I can't control what people think, Catnip."

"But you knew that's what some people were thinking!" I accuse him.

"Yes, I knew that's what some people were thinking," he admits.

"Gale!"

"What?" he's trying to hold back his amusement, "did you want me to go knock on everyone's door or something," and he continues in a mocking tone, "'excuse, me, sorry to bother you, but I just want to make sure you know that I'm not sleeping with Katniss Everdeen.'" He looks at me, grinning as he finishes, but it falters as he sees I'm upset. "What? Why does it bother you so much?" he actually sounds a little hurt by this.

"Because, that's not what we were doing!" He nods, seeming to understand this. I can't quite explain why it bothers me so much, but I'm angry. I guess firstly because it's a lie, but mostly because it reminds me of people thinking I was in love with Peeta when I wasn't, and that upsets me. Not that I ever had to pretend I was in love with Gale. And now I'm just angry because I'm confused. "I guess I just don't like people thinking I'm something I'm not. After the Games, there were so many lies...So many who think they know me and don't…"

"I understand that," he says genuinely, and I'm thankful he gets it. I'm not trying to insult him. "But you have to remember, those people don't matter," he tries to comfort me. I take a minute to consider this.

"It wouldn't bother you if people believed a bunch of lies they heard about you?"

"Depends on the lie, I guess," he honestly thinks about it.

"But not this one?"

"Katniss, I know you don't realize this most of the time, but I am a guy."

"I know!" How could I not? "I just didn't think...you wouldn't want other girls to think you were with me..."

"Why not?"

I am not oblivious to everything. I know Gale is just about the most handsome boy in the Seam, possibly in all of District 12. I heard what all the girls said about him. I knew how many wanted to be with him. There had to be at least one that caught his eye, and if she thought he was with me that would sure complicate things...I am thinking about how to explain this to him when we hear their voices.

Mine and Gale's instincts both kick in. We freeze, frantically looking for their source. Both our ears, trained to pick up on the slightest sound, hear the crackle from the left. We barely have enough time to dodge behind the nearest tree as we see the two men in Peacekeeper uniforms coming.

"This way," one first man calls. "I thought I heard something from over here!" He motions to his companion to follow.

"Are you sure?" the second one has doubts. They continue walking towards us, weapons raised, searching around. "I didn't hear anything. Let's just keep heading for the water."

"No," he is firm, "I know I heard voices."

"It was probably just the birds…" But they keep coming towards us.

I hold my breath and try to stay small behind the tree. They are only a few yards away, we'll have to be very careful so they don't see us. Gale has silently placed his backpack on the ground. He slowly pulls out his long hunting knife. I grab his arm and look up at him, hoping he understands me. Best not to attack, if they think we're not here. He looks down at me and nods. He isn't going to do anything rash. I nod, thankful, hoping we can get out of this without risking any lives.

"There!" the first man screams. They've seen us.

No quicker than he's said it does Gale aim his sharp knife and throw it at the man. He falls to his knees, unable to stop the red from pouring out of his chest.

"Katniss, quick," Gale commands me, "your bow!" I raised it in a second, taking aim at the other man whose weapon is also pointed at me. But he's looking to his friend, sputtering on the ground, and to both of us, weapons in hand. He shakes his head, desperately, eyes wide with fear, and lowers his gun.

"Katniss!" Gale sounds desperate, "shoot!" But I can't shoot a man in the back. He's not a threat to us now. I lower my weapon as the man starts to run away.

Gale curses as he lunges over to the dead body. He wrenches the weapon loose, studies it for a second, points it at the fleeing man, and fires. There's a strange electric noise, and Gale jumps back, unprepared for the weapon's recoil. The second man crumples to the ground.

"Why did you do that?" I scream, "he wasn't going to hurt us!"

"No," Gale says coolly, "he was going to run and tell his friends, and they were going to hurt us."

 _Oh, I hadn't thought of that_.

I know Gale is right. That man would have gotten us killed, for sure. I try and make myself remember that as I shake the image of his wide, frightened eyes from my mind.

"Are you okay?" he asks me, seeing my worried expression.

"Yeah," I finally mumble. "Are you?" I look at him full of concern, trying to figure out what he's feeling, remembering the first time I had to take a life. "I – I just…I know how hard it is to kill somebody…I know…how it can haunt you…"

Gale doesn't look at me when he crouches down to the body. "When I was about ten years old," he says, ripping his knife out of the dead man's chest, "I was walking home one day. It was cold and rainy and I remember my feet were all wet," he wipes the blood on the white uniform, "and I saw this boy. Curled up, under a tree. I thought he was hiding from the rain, and I went over to him, ready to share my umbrella to get him home. He couldn't have been more than eight…" Gale puts his knife in the sheath he wears at his hip. "But when I got close to him, I saw his eyes were closed and first thought he was sleeping…" He turns the man over and begins to go through his belt, looking for anything useful. "But as I got closer, I saw how his skin stuck to his face, how his body looked so pinched, and I noticed…" he pulled what appeared to be some type of ammo off of the belt, "…how he didn't move." Gale gets up, and studies the weapon. "I reached out to the boy, hoping that he'd wake…" I look at Gale with horrified eyes, but his haven't left the weapon yet. "I took just one finger and touched his face… The boy's eyes jumped open." I exhale in relief, and he looks at me. I can't quite read his expression. "But they never closed again." My jaw drops in horror. "I sat there, crouched next to him for minutes, shaking him, screaming at him, but those big, round, gray eyes never closed…" He takes the weapon and slings it over his back. "If anybody's face is going to haunt my dreams tonight," he finally catches my eyes, "it's that boy's…not his." And he kicks the dead man's body.

He says this with such finality I don't know what to make of it. Gale has never told me this story before. I want to say something to him. Extend some form of comfort. Find some way to make it all better. But I know I can't.

"I heard him say something about water," Gale says in a tone that is nothing more than matter-of-fact, "So we should turn around. We don't want to run into any more of them out here."

I can think of nothing to say so I nod and follow him back the direction we came.

* * *

Gale doesn't talk much for the rest of the evening. He insists we get as far away from the water source as possible before making camp. We walk well on into the dark. There's a cold northern wind carrying the remainder of winter, and I suggest we make a fire.

"Shouldn't risk it. Someone could see us." I nod because he's right. Too dangerous since we don't know who is around, how many, or why. So I tuck my legs up under my chin and make my body into a ball as I try to stay warm, and Gale sets up the tent.

Gale partitions some of the bread Brillow gave us, some dried meat, and a very small cup of water. I didn't realize until I see it how thirsty I am. We huddle close and eat our small meal. Both of us are used to the hunger. Food was often in short supply back home in Twelve, but never water.

"My first few days in the Games, I didn't have much water…" I let the sentence hang in the air.

"I remember."

"You saw that part?"

"I couldn't avoid the Games entirely, even if I wanted to."

"It was bad."

"We'll find some water tomorrow." He's trying to reassure me. But that's not exactly what I'm after.

"It's okay," I say, almost offhandedly, "Thirst was hardly the worst part of the Games." Our eyes catch for a moment. He's not sure where I'm going with this. To be honest, I'm not either. But for some reason, start telling him things. All sorts of things. I don't know why; I guess now, maybe I think he'll understand. I tell him about massacre at the Cornucopia. About the fire, and the parachute, and getting chased up the tree. I tell him about the Careers, and the trackerjackers, and Rue. I start crying when I think of Rue. I tell him about blowing up the food pyramid, and about the boy who killed Rue. About the boy I killed. About how there are nights when I wake up and don't think I'll ever be able to wash their blood from my hands. I tell him about finding Peeta. About drugging him and sneaking out to get his medicine. I tell him about the notes Haymitch sent me, and the rules changing, about the mutts attacking and about killing Cato. I tell him about the rules changing again, and I tell him about the berries.

Gale sits and listens, he doesn't say a thing, as I finish my story. He waits for me to be done, and it appears I am because I can't think of anything else to say. He's silent as he considers.

"Do you think you would have eaten the berries?"

"I don't know," I tell him honestly, "maybe. I was so tired and exhausted and drained from the Games, in that moment, I just wanted them so desperately to be over, I very well might have...But I also promised Prim I'd come home…But, I guess, Peeta would have taken care of her, if he won…And you too…" I meet his eyes. Perhaps that sounds too much like a question.

Gale shakes his head as I say that. "You know I would have," he says with something sad in his eyes.

I look over at him, uncertain. Not that I don't believe him, but I know there is something going on that I don't understand.

"Katniss, do you sometimes wish that you had taken those berries?"

"Yes," I answer too quickly, and Gale looks worried. "Not too often anymore, but I did a lot, especially at the beginning."

"I'm glad you didn't."

"I know." It's the only thing I can think to say. I lay down because I want to do something, and it's the only thing I can do in this tiny, stupid tent. Gale follows. I can feel him next to me, eyes on me. "You really won't have any regrets about killing those two men today?"

"I'm not saying that it was easy, or that I enjoyed it, Katniss. You can go ahead and think it's sad if you want, but know it was also necessary. It had to be done. Those two men signed up to wear that uniform. They knew the risks that went along with it. And they knew what wearing it meant." I feel his eyes on me and roll on my side to look into them because I'm not sure what he means. "It meant that it was their job to kill us." That is true. "I'm certain they would have done it, and I'm not going to regret stopping them."

I search his gray eyes, trying to figure out if he means this, and I think he does. I wish I knew how. I must stare at him for quite some time, because he finally asks me, "what are you thinking about, Catnip?"

"You need to shave," I tell him because I'm not sure what's going on inside my head, and it's the first thing that comes into my mind.

Gale takes his hand and rubs his chin, "yeah, I guess I do. It comes in a lot thicker and quicker than it used to…"

I nod to show I'm listening as I wonder what happened to those children who met in the woods so many years ago. The scrawny, spiny girl who thought she had so much to prove. The boy who was taller than he should have been, stronger than he knew he was, and who hungered for so much from this world…

I know I'm not that same girl. And it's foolish of me to try and hold on to that boy. He's gone too. Or maybe not gone, but changed. It's not just age that has transformed them. But life. I guess there is no stopping that, and I wonder if I want to as I look at my best friend….I try to find the boy that I know so well in the dark features that lie before me. But the person next to me is no boy. It's more than just the shadow of a beard that has changed him. Its hardship and sacrifice and hunger for something more from this life. He's a man now. And I don't mean just his body. Or his age. But in every sense of the word. And I realize, as I look at him succumbing to sleep, that I'm jealous. Not of what he is but that he is. That he knows it and respects it and is certain. It's been a long time since I've been certain about anything, least of all myself.

It's time I moved on and changed too….for a long time, I thought that the best was to cope with the horror of the Hunger Games was to try and go back to before they ever happened, try and recapture the girl that I once was, the life I once had. That if I could find her again and hold on, maybe I'd be able to get through this. But there is no use trying to go back. That life in gone now, there is no place for that girl. And for the first time I realize that even if I could return, maybe I don't want to. Maybe it's time for me to move on, grow up, and embrace the things that have happened to me and try to find a way to be better for it. Like Gale does. I'm not sure how exactly to do this. Part of me wants to curl up next to Gale and find comfort in his strong arms. But that's something that the old Katniss would do.

"What's wrong, Katniss?" he mumbles from behind closed eyes.

"I'm just so – so uncertain…"

"About what?"

"Everything."

He does something like a nod and reaches out and takes my hand. "Just try and find one thing you know for sure, one thing you're certain of, and try and hold on to that tonight."

I squeeze his hand thankfully and am silent for minutes as I think.

"You," I barely whisper, not knowing if he is still awake to hear. "The only thing I'm certain of in this world is you, Gale, I don't know what I'd do without you."

And for the first time, looking at my best friend in the dark, I wish he would do more than just hold me to get me through the night.


	19. Chapter 19

I wake up the next morning and hear Gale cursing at the map machine outside. I come out to see what the matter is.

"There's no other water source besides the lake we were trying to head to yesterday." And we both know returning there is not a good idea.

"There's nothing else?"

"Not within a twenty five mile radius. We're going to need water soon," he tells me with a frown. "We only have one bottle left." Gale takes the last bottle and splits it in two. He hands one of the half filled bottles to me. "This is going to have to last us three more days, if we don't find anything."

"Don't worry," I tell him, trying to be positive, "I'm sure something will turn up."

Gale questions my optimism, but I try not to let my smile falter. We split some dried meat for breakfast and try to wash it down with a tiny cup of water. Perhaps we shouldn't have eaten the salted meat, I think, trying to suck the taste out of my mouth, trying not to think about the little water we have left.

Gale packs up our supplies and checks the map. "All right, this direction," he points ahead. I nod, collect my bag, and follow him.

Today is an unusually warm day and we peel off our outer layers as we hike. I start to feel a little weak as my body tries to sweat. _This is not going to be good,_ I think to myself, remembering too well the effects of dehydration. But I smile reassuringly whenever Gale looks back to check on me.

"Are we any closer to water?" I ask, trying not to sound too desperate when we stop.

Gale looks at the map and shakes his head. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah!" I say perhaps a little too brightly. Gale walks over to me and puts his hand to my face.

"You don't feel so good," he scowls.

"No," I dismiss him with a wave of my hand and heavy breath, "no, I'm fine."

I'm not though. Yesterday, I felt a little thirsty. My throat and lips were a bit dry, but it was nothing to worry about. Today, however, my whole body feels parched. My limbs all feel heavy and I've got a horrible headache.

Gale's brow crinkles the way it always does when he's worried. "Here, let's take a drink." He opens his bottle and takes a sip and I do the same with mine. I let a tiny bit of water fall into my mouth. I think I might be so thirsty that I just absorb it rather than swallow. "Drink more, Katniss."

"No, I'm fine," I maintain. His eye brow raises up, but he doesn't push the matter.

We park under a large tree for lunch. Gale pulls out some dried fruit, but I pass. I'm not hungry and think it will only make me thirstier. He gives me another funny look.

"I'm just not that hungry," I insist.

We sit and rest under the tree for several minutes. I close my eyes and try and enjoy the shade.

"It's really hot today," I say, trying to fan myself.

"Yeah?" I don't notice that it's a question. I nod. "Katniss, are you sure you feel okay?" His voice is more concerned.

"Yeah!" I chip again, trying to sit up and look normal.

"Here," he tries to hand me his bottle, "I want you to drink some more water."

"No," I push it away, "that's your water, Gale."

"You need it."

"So do you," I insist. But Gale is relentless. "Look," I finally settle the matter, "if you get too dehydrated and pass out, I can't carry you. But if it happens to me…" He knows I have a point.

"Oh, I get the pleasure of lugging your butt until we find water then?" he teases me.

"Yeah. And it's a real pleasure too," I add playfully.

We both sit and relax in the shade for a few more minutes before Gale finally gets up and extends his hand to me. He has to pull me up and I'm a little shaky at first, but luckily Gale is kind enough not to say anything. I wonder if he is secretly feeling as bad as I am, or if he's just stronger. I suspect the later as he looks okay.

"Do you ever have dreams about me?" I say out of nowhere after been walking for a bit.

"What?" he sounds stunned at the question.

"You know," I make a loopy hand gesture, "dreams…when you sleep."

"I know what dreams are, Katniss."

 _Well, why'd you ask then?_ "Well?" I'm not letting this go.

"I guess," Gale finally answers, "sometimes. Why?"

"Because I had a dream about you last night." I think my vision is starting to get a bit blurry.

"Oh yeah," he smiles, "what about?"

"I can't remember," I frown, trying to recall the details. I've got such a headache. "But I had a dream about you and Vivica once…She was feeding you grapes…I hated it." I'm not really sure what I'm saying any more. I'm starting to feel really sick.

"Really?" Gale seems a little happy when he says this. "Because she was feeding me grapes?"

"No!" I struggle to find a way to explain, "or maybe…you were feeding her grapes. I don't remember now..."

"Katniss?" That's funny. Gale's voice sounds so distance. Why can't I see him? "Katniss!

* * *

I open my eyes and see Gale peering down at me. I must be lying down. I reach up and poke Gale in the forehead.

"Hey there…" he says as he looks down at me.

"I just wanted to make sure you were real," I say. He accepts this. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing happened to me," he explains. " _You_ fainted."

"I did not." I never faint.

"I'm afraid you did."

"No," I argue.

"If you say so," he agrees as he stokes my face. I like the way that feels. But then I think I remember fainting, so I change the topic.

"I had funny dreams."

"About me and Vivica?" he teases, shaking me slightly.

"No!" I scowl. "I hate that girl."

"Why? She seemed nice."

"Oh, of course you liked her."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just…she was all over you! It was so obvious."

Gale smiles. "Careful, Catnip, you're starting to sound like you're jealous."

"No…well…maybe."

"Really?" Gale seems excited to hear this.

"She thought you were really good looking."

"I am really good looking," Gale says playfully.

"Yeah, but, she wanted you."

"So? That doesn't mean I wanted her."

I pause and try to think about this. It's hard because I still have a headache. "Really?"

"Katniss if I liked every girl who thought I was good looking, I'd be in a lot of trouble."

"Yeah," I laugh, "all the girls like you…"

"Not all the girls," he says, looking at me strangely.

"Gale – "

* * *

I feel cold this time as I wake up. It looks like it's getting dark out. But that could just be my vision.

"Gale?"

"Yeah?"

"Oh, I thought you left me." I'm suddenly aware of his arms around me. I start to reach up for his face again.

"Never."

Everything fades out.

* * *

"I can't see."

I hear Gale's voice. "It's night time now."

"Oh." Well then, I might as well go back to sleep.

* * *

I can hear birds chirping and everything looks gray. I blink several times, trying to bring the world into focus. I pull myself up and look around. We're inside the tent and Gale is sleeping next to me. My throat doesn't feel as dry now and I don't have as much of a headache. But trying to move makes me feel a little dizzy. I lie back down.

I remember having many strange dreams. Images swirl before me.

I am running through the woods desperately searching for Gale. Then Peeta comes and finds me. He tells me we are still in the Games. I try and tell him the Games are over. "No, Katniss," he says with a gravely, "the Games aren't over." I my face wrinkles into a frown. Peeta extends his hand and tells me to follow. "But what about Gale?" my voice fades. Peeta leads me back to the Capitol and I'm in some prep room. People are fluttering all about me. Whispering. Haymitch comes in. He tells me I have to put on a very good show. "You're in love, remember?" He repeats this as he leads me out to a stage. I walk out, in a frilly, dollish dress, and Peeta is waiting for me. I'm blinded by flashing lights and deafened by a roaring crowd. I don't know what is going on. I get nervous want Gale. But Peeta is the one waiting for me, with outstretched arms. He takes me in his arms and kisses me. I return it, but coldly. The crowd boos me. I hear someone yell, "you call that a kiss!" I turn and yell, frustrated, "I don't want to kiss Peeta!" Then Vivica comes out of the shadows, wearing a very seductive dress that makes me feel silly in the girlish one I'm wearing. She has a wicked smile on her face, "Well, you can't have Gale."

I frown as I remember the pieces of the dream. I'm confused and angry and try to forget about it. I look down at the sleeping Gale next to me. I scoot closer to him, possessively. _Vivica can't have you,_ I think. Gale must sense me because he shifts in his sleep, opening his arms to me. I can't help but snuggle closer. He pulls me to him and I rest my head on his shoulder, curving my body around his. I look up at his sleeping features and think I like the feel of our two bodies so near. I think that if I ever have to kiss anyone again, I hope it's him…

"How are you feeling?" Gale asks me when I open eyes. I don't know if it's awkward us being this close. But I suppose it's the same as a hug, just on the ground.

"Better," I say, looking at Gale suspiciously, realizing there's only one way I could feel better.

"What?"

"You know what I'm thinking," I accuse him.

"You think I force fed you water?"

My answer is written across my face.

"It's hard to make someone drink while they are asleep," he tells me. "Go ahead, look at your bottle."

I find it and see that it's still almost half full. I nod, accepting this, and take a swig from the bottle. But as I do and look at him, I realize. "You didn't!"

Gale averts his eyes.

"Gale! Tell me you didn't give me your water!"

"I didn't give you my water." I want to slap the smirk off his face. This is no joking matter.

"Don't lie!" I scream and throw my bottle at him.

He dodges it. "Hey!"

"We've got to last three more days, Gale!"

"I know."

"Yeah? And what am I supposed to do when you pass out, Gale! Did you think of that?"

"You needed water, Katniss."

"I would have been fine," I roll my eyes.

"No, you wouldn't have. I know how dangerous dehydration is."

"Obviously you don't! Or you wouldn't have given me your water! I'm not going to drink another drop," I insist, tossing the bottle back at him one more time. I can't believe his did this. I'm so upset I have to turn away from him, just looking at him makes me want to cry. But the tears still fall anyway.

"Hey, Katniss, it will be okay." I feel him come next to me and reach for my shoulders. He tries to massage them gently.

I swat him away and burry my face in my hands. _Crying is such a waste of water,_ I scold myself, trying to fight back my tears.

"Please don't be angry," he says, taking my shoulders again and folding me into his arms.

Why doesn't he understand? "I'm not angry!" I choke, the tears are coming now. "I'm…" I hate admitting this, "…I'm afraid!" Gale's look suddenly changes. "What if something happens to you? What am I supposed to do!" My voice is breaking. Gale reaches over and grabs me. He pulls me close to him, and I curl up in his arms.

"I couldn't let anything happen to you either," he whispers into my hair. There is no end to this fight. We both know it. We both know the other is right.

We silently sit and have breakfast. More dried food. I only pretend to take a sip of water before I pass the bottle to Gale. I'm not sure if he does the same.

I help him pack up the tent and the rest of our supplies. Even though there are few of them, both of us think that they feel heavier today.

I pay a lot of attention to Gale as we hike through the morning. I know he can't be feeling well. He's had less water than I have, is working harder, and is bigger than me. He hides any pain or discomfort well though. They only thing different I can notice is that his pace is a bit slower than normal.

"I need a break," he finally says, wiping the sweat from his face. He stops to lean up against a tree.

"Are you alright?" I ask urgently.

He nods and takes a sip of water. "Don't worry, Catnip," he smiles between heavy breaths. I'm not sure I believe him though. He drops his pack to the ground and slides down against the tree. I monitor him carefully, watching his chest heave with labored breaths, the sweat drip off his cheeks, the flutter of his eyes behind closed lips…

I tell myself not to worry and try to keep my heart calm. Not to think about how little water Gale's had over the past few days. How much a man his size needs…

I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear the sound. Gale is up and at attention in a split second too. The fighter in both of us is alerted. Our eyes frantically search around. Gale's already positioned himself protectively in front of me with a weapon in hand when we hear the sound again. We think someone is firing at us. But who? Where? From What direction?

Just then the sky cracks and it starts to pour. The sound wasn't shooting, but thunder. In only seconds we are drenched.

Gale laughs, running out into the rain.

"Woooo!" He cries, opening his mouth and facing the sky. He spins around, excited, like a kid. I can't help but laugh as I watch him. "Come on, Catnip!" I drop my pack and run over to him.

"You're crazy" I yell to him.

"What?" he says with a huge grin on his face.

"YOU'RE CRAZY!" I scream louder so he can hear me over the torrential downpour. Gale shakes his head like a dog after a bath, and smiles. He grabs me and twirls me around until we both fall laughing in the mud. Gale tried to catch me as I fell. I pulled him under and somehow landed on top of him.

Our eyes lock and we look at each other for a moment, our faces so close our noses are almost touching. My eyes flick down to his lips and I remember how I thought about kissing them, and now I want to kiss them, and I wonder if Gale is thinking about kissing me as he pushes some of the hair out of my face and his fingers trace the curve of my cheek. And I think I just might lean in and kiss him, when a bolt of lightning sizzles across the sky, and a dangerous clap of thunder breaks the moment for us both.

And then I remember that Gale has never wanted to kiss me. That he's the most beautiful boy from District 12 who can have any girl he wants, and that would never be me.

"We better take advance of this water," Gale says, getting up and offering a helping hand. He picks up a few sturdy looking branches and pulls one of our thermal blankets from the pack. He devises a type of trough with the sticks and lines it with the blanket, which is more or less water proof. A little pool is already filling the bottom. This should collect plenty of water for us.

We're both soaked through and muddy as well. I've got dirt and leaves in my hair, and I can feel the mud wet earth in my shoes.

"Do you feel as gross as I do?" I ask him.

"Yeah," he looks around with the start of a grin tugging at his mouth. Some plan brewing in that clever mind of his. His eyes land of a nearby tree. "Maybe we should wash off our clothes."

My brow shoots up as I question him. But Gale is already peeling off his shirt. I can't deny that he has an incredible body. And I feel bad about thinking of him this way.

"Come on, Catnip," he says as he continues and takes off his pants.

When we were younger, we'd often throw off our outer clothes and swim in our underwear to escape the summer heat. It seemed natural and would have been strange to think anything of it. So much is different now, including our bodies. Back then, I was a flat chested, bony girl. And Gale was a lanky boy with arms and legs that were too long for him. His body never did seem to grow proportionally at the same time. Every piece separately in spurts, until they all caught up.

"Catnip?" Gale questions me, returning me to the moment. I see how he is hanging his clothes in a tree so that the water can run down it, hopefully cleaning away most of the dirt. Gale's done this with his shirt, his pants, and his socks. It actually seems to be working, I think, trying not to look at my friend standing in his underwear as the water falls off of his defined muscles.

I realize it's a good idea, and begin to strip off my clothes. Gale respectfully turns away and stands out in the open, trying to shower himself some. I wonder if he thinks this is as awkward as I do. Or, if he nothing of it, as I practically have the body of a kid, especially when compared to some of the other girls from back home. Of course, I've developed some, but being under fed and over worked for most of my life, I can't say I have a beautiful body. It was something my prep team often fussed about, wishing they could "alter" me, as they called it. I'd never even thought of it before. Being a woman seemed such a hassle, I was happy to be a late bloomer. But since, it has made me a bit self conscious. Cinna had padded bras and other things to make me look curvier, more womanly. But out here in the woods, in my utilitarian hunting suit and sports bra, there is nothing womanly about me.

I hang my clothes in the tree like Gale did, and go and stand in the rain to try and wash myself some as well, with my back towards Gale. When I finish, I turn and see Gale has filled all the water bottles.

"Here," he hands one to me. "Drink all of this." I happily comply. We both drink all the water we can hold. Gale pitches the tent and we spend the rest of the evening huddled inside, but the rain shows no sign of letting up.

"Great," Gale huffs, "if it keeps up like this, we're going to have to start worrying about food…"


	20. Chapter 20

The night has brought with it not only more rain but also quite the chill. Gale and I have been huddled in our little tent for hours. I can feel the cool water running beneath us. We're both soaked through, and I'm trying hard not to shiver.

"You're cold." Gale sounds concerned.

"No," I retort, but he knows I'm lying.

"Katniss…" I can't see Gale's face in the dark very well, but I don't have to. I know him well enough to know the exact look he has on his face.

"I'm not cold," I insist.

"You're shivering."

"I'm just antsy. You know I don't do well all cooped up."

"Please," he scoffs. It's clear I haven't fooled him. He stretched out one of his long arms and pulls me close to him. "Here," he says, as he rubs his hands up and down my arms.

I try not to think about how close our bodies are. Or how little clothes we have on. Or how warm and nice and strong Gale feels. I try to shove all these thoughts out of my head and I tell myself I shouldn't think of my best friend this way.

"How do you think our families are doing?" I don't know where this thought came from.

"I think they are okay."

"Really?" I've tried my hardest not to think about them over the past few weeks.

"Don't worry," Gale says as he soothingly rubs my back. "Haymitch promised he'd look after them, and it'd be too suspicious if something happened. Haymitch's probably even told them the truth by now. I'm sure they're all fine."

"Even Peeta?" I can feel Gale's body tense as I ask this question. But his voice doesn't betray whatever feelings are at work inside him.

"Even Peeta," he reassures me with a soft smile. I lean into his body, seeking comfort and warmth, and before I realize, I've fallen asleep.

Gale was right about the food. It poured for two days straight. We woke up on the third morning, cold, hungry, damp, and grumpy, and it wasn't until we were half way through our little breakfast (one cracker, half a piece of dried jerky each, and an entire bottle of water) that we notice it isn't raining.

"Do you hear that?" I ask Gale.

"No, what?"

"My point exactly." Gale meets my eyes and we understood each other perfectly. In one, fluid movement, he jumps over me and is outside the tent in a second.

"Thank God," he cries, just as jubilantly as he had when it started raining, "I'm so glad to be out of that damn tent!" And he runs around again, stretching and celebrating like a big kid.

We pull our clothes from the tree. They are still a bit damp, but we've no choice but to put them on. We drink as much water as we can hold before filling all of our bottles entirely the rest of the water Gale collected. I help him fold the blanket and pack up the camp, but everything is a mess. It's no use trying to wash off the mud, but we try for several minutes before giving up and bundling everything into Gale's pack and resume our hike. We've still got about three days until we're expected to hit the next safe house, and while I'm thankful to be well hydrated, I'm not looking forward to walking through all this mud. But we've no choice. We pull on our soggy shoes and squish forward, no longer tormented by our thirst, but instead the humidity, the heat, the increasing number of bugs, and above all, the mud.

For two more full days, we traipse through the wet earth. I am beginning to think on the third morning that I'd never know how it felt to be clean again, when the map machine tells us we are close to the next safe house.

"Thank god," Gale sighs, looking above my shoulder.

I nod in agreement and point the direction in which we must go as I swipe away both sweat and mosquitoes.

In the late afternoon, we see the small house in the distance. Stomachs growling from hunger, feet squishing in mud, we race like we did as children to the door.

"We were wondering when you'd get here," a friendly, middle aged woman says to us as she walks from around the corner of the house, carrying a large basket of laundry. She sets it down and extends her hand, "I'm Sylvie. You must be the two from Twelve."

I am about to take her hand when I look down at mine and realize how dirty it is and that I have no clean place to wipe it. We must look horrible. Mud caked to our clothes, in our hair, dirt up to our knees, on our faces, even in our ears, probably. I have to stop myself from begging this woman to let me take a bath before introducing myself. I turn my handshake attempt into a wave.

"Hi," I say as brightly as I can, "I'm Katniss and this is Gale. We are the two from Twelve."

"Glad you finally made it," she says, looking us up and down. "I'll see if I can get the two of you cleaned up a bit and then I'll work on feeding you…Just follow me."

We follow her to her porch and see several tiny faces peering out as us from the window. Sylvie ushers the children out to meet us. They gather around her and she puts her hands around the smaller ones lovingly. "This here is Katniss and Gale," she says, looking down at the small faces. "They are going to be our guests for the next few days."

"Hi," Gale says warmly to the children. He crouches down to their level. A couple of them back at him, the others aren't sure what to make of us.

"Hello," I try to match his friendly tone.

"Cinda," Sylvie calls into the house, "fetch a pale of warm water, will ya? These are my children. This here is Willow," she places her hand on the back of a girl just a little younger than Prim, "her brother Trek," she gestures to a dark haired boy who's maybe ten, "Glennie," she grabs an even younger boy who can't be more than six, "little May," she touches the tiny blonde girl clinging to her skirts. "My oldest, Cinda, is bringing you some water now, and I've got another baby boy, Brook, sleeping inside."

 _Dear God_ , I think, _all these children are hers?_

"It's very nice to meet you all," Gale says with a friendly smile. Sylvie returns it. She must notice how good he is with children. The younger girl, May I think, tentatively takes one of her small hands and waves at Gale. He crouches down by her and waves back. May must be shy because she blushes and buries her face back in her mother's skirts.

"You like kids?" Sylvie asks Gale as she leads us to the back porch.

He nods. "Yeah. I've got three younger siblings."

"But none of your own?" She's looking at me as she asks this.

"No way!" I blurt out, perhaps too forcefully. "We're too young."

"Too young," she scoffs, "I already had one in my arms and another in my belly by the time I was your age."

"Oh. Well, I don't want kids, anyway." I look away awkwardly.

"No?" Sylvie repeats. I don't know why she's looking at me like this. I just shake my head in response.

Sylvie opens the door to the porch and we walk in. There another young, who I can only assume is her oldest Cinda, is filling a large wash basin with water from the stove.

"Thank you, Cinda," Sylvie tells the girl. She gets up and looks us up and down. I feel really uncomfortable as she stares at me. I wonder how horrible I look.

"Of course, mother," Cinda nods, glancing one more time at Gale, before leaving the room.

"I don't know which of you wants to go first," Sylvie gestures to the tub, "but you can just throw your clothes in this basket and I'll wash them for you. My husband Cott going to be away for awhile, so he won't be needing these," she puts some clothes on a chair for Gale, "And these are Cinda's," she looks at me as she points to an outfit on the table, "it should fit you nicely." Sylvie didn't say anything more before leaving.

Gale and I look at each other awkwardly for a second and at the steaming tub of water.

"You first," we both say, almost simultaneously, and laugh.

"No seriously, ladies first," Gale repeats.

"Ha," I laugh, "I'm not a lady, especially like this," I look down at myself.

"Still look amazing to me," and before I even have time to figure out what he means, he's stepped out of the door.

The water was still steaming. I tentatively put my finger in it. Warm. No, hot. Hot water. I involuntarily sigh as I feel it. I quickly strip off my clothes and submerse myself before I even think to look around and make sure no one is watching. I come up and look around. Good, I'm clear. I take a deep breath and relax for a moment. I see the soap and bubbles Sylvie set out for us. I don't think I've ever been so excited to see soap in my life. I eagerly grab the bar and start scrubbing my body. I didn't realize how dirty I was, and I knew I was pretty dirty.

I could have spent an hour in there, but the water was cooling down, and I think I got off as much dirt as I possibly could. Plus, Gale was probably desperate to get in. I hop out and dried off as quickly as I can. I go over to the pile of clothes Sylvie left me. _Oh no_ , I think as I unfold the garment. _It's a dress._ Not only a dress, but one with flowers on it. It feels like something I should be wearing to a Reaping, and that makes me nervous. But also, I hate wearing dresses. The material is pretty nice though, soft, not horribly worn. It's a nice, white linen with small purple flowers on it. It's some sort of wrap dress, which I've never worn before, and it takes me a few minutes to figure it out. I pull it on like a robe, but am unsure how it all connects until I finally see a small hole a few inches beneath the arm on the left side. In the seam, whenever clothes have a hole, it's really a tear, but I finally realized this hole was put there on purpose. Once I'd figured that out, it was easy to see how the belt looped through and held the dress together. Not well enough for my comfort though. I didn't like how the dress crisscrossed over my chest. I'm not even sure I'd let Cinna dress me in something so low, but maybe Cinda wasn't as well developed as me. The dress has thick straps, but no sleeves, so Sylvie laid out a sweater for me as well. I put it one and go to the mirrors, towel around my shoulders. I feel very self conscious in the dress. Prim would tell me I look pretty in it. Gale probably would to, come to think of it. And I blush at the thought. But there is nothing really more I can do to help my appearance, so I throw my hair in a braid like normal and come out.

"Oh, there you are!" Sylvie said brightly. "Trek," she commanded her oldest son, "go empty the tub quickly." Her son shot up and obeyed. "The next batch of water is almost heated up. You've got perfect timing." She smiles at me. I don't really know how to react.

As I enter their family room, I see Gale lying on the floor playing with the younger children. He was playing a folding paper game that he often played with Posey. I could see that the little girl, May I think, was astonished with it. Prim used to be as well. And I remember how he used to come over and make little animals that had moving legs, or bugs with wings that could flap out of our old school papers and how she'd delight in them as May and Glennie seemed to be doing now.

"Just about ready," Sylvie says to Gale. He hops up, messing Glennie's hair as he does, causing the young boy to giggle. Sylvie starts to lift the have pot of water for Gale's bath.

"I got it," he says, running over to help her.

"Oh no," she begins to protest, but Gale doesn't let her. He easily lifts the steaming pot from her stove. "Why, thank you," she exclaims, "it's so nice to have a man around. This way," she starts to lead Gale to their back porch, "Trek, have you emptied the tub?" she calls out to her son.

"Nice dress," Gale says with a smirk, knowing full well how much I hate them, as he passes.

"Ha," I scoff, "you're lucky I didn't put on the clothes she left out for you."

And I hear Gale chuckle as he walks by.

* * *

It feels like Gale is in the bath for ages. I try and offer Sylvie some help, but she says she doesn't need any.

"Oh no, dear, I'm fine," She calls from the kitchen.

 _Great_ , I think, as I awkwardly sit on the couch. Both Glennie and May are looking up at me with wide, expectant eyes and Gale's paper animals in their hands. I meet theirs and stare blankly back. _What do you want me to do?_ I think. With no ideas, I weakly wave my hand. They stare at me like I'm an alien. Only little May extends her hand to return my gesture. I am so bad at this.

The children return to their makeshift toys. Gale had made them quite a few. Glennie is amused with a little frog that hops when you push it down. There is a look of genuine surprise on his face every time the frog hops up, even after he's done it four or five times. He lets out a squeal of laugher as he does it again. I don't think I'd ever had the occasion to use this word before, but it comes rushing to the front of my mind: precious. A faint smile crosses my lips before I feel sick for thinking it. _Hmmm, precious…_ I scoff. But I'm not sure the smile leaves my lips.

May, however, is playing with two of the mammal creatures. One is clearly chasing the other. She dashes the two figures about, racing across the floor until one suddenly overtakes the other. Victor in hand, she crushes the loser, completely crumpling the paper animal. She voices its demise, and a tangled snarl escapes her lips as it seemingly dies. She trots the triumphant animal around its vanquished prey then laughs. In an almost evil way.

 _Maybe this kid isn't so bad_ , I think as I watch the one animal then eat the other admits violent sounds.

Gale finally emerges from his bath. He's not only washed but shaved and looks good. The clothing Sylvie gave him is a little too tight for him and he moves awkwardly into the room. The pants are at least three inches too short for him, and the clothes are definitely too small in the shoulders and seat of his pants. But small clothes are nothing new to Gale, who spent most of his childhood growing faster than Hazelle could keep up.

"Oh, good, Gale," Sylvie says as she sees him, "dinner's almost ready. I take it you two are hungry?"

"Yes," we both say automatically. Gale looks at me and smiles.

"Great! Dinner's almost ready! Come on kids, food!"

At Sylvie's pronouncement, I hear scampering from all corners of the house as the children nearly knocked each other over to get to the table. Glennie and May disappear in a flash and were seated with knife and fork in hand before I'd even gotten up. Trek comes barreling in from outside somewhere and doesn't even stop to take off his shoes. He appears eagerly next to his little brother and sister.

"Trek, now you go wash up before you sit at the table," Sylvie reproaches he eldest son as she carries a pan to the table. The boy lets out an unhappy sound by doesn't question his mother. He sulks away from the table as Willow walks in carrying the baby Brook.

"Do you need help with anything?" Gale asks as he approaches the table.

"Oh no, dear, take a seat," Sylvie gestures to one of the empty chairs.

I tentatively follow Gale. For some reason, this entire situation makes me uncomfortable. It's not Sylvie, she seems very sweet and nice. I guess it's all the kids. I've never had a big family, and they make me uncomfortable. My role as sister only involved providing, never playing. That's why I let Prim keep Buttercup. As I take my seat next to Gale at the large table, part of me almost thinks I'd rather be back with Brillow and Teak as I look at all the small faces surrounding me.

Cinda and Sylvie bring the last dishes to the table and take their seats. Cinda positions herself across from Gale and smiles coyly at him. He warmly returns it.

"Thank you so much for this dinner, Mrs…." Gale pauses awkwardly as he realizes we don't know Sylvie's last name.

"Oh, just call me Sylvie. And there's no need for thanks, it's my pleasure to do this for you."

There is silence for a moment as bowls are passed around and the only sound is spoons scraping servings onto our plates. Sylvie has made quite the meal. There's freshly baked bread with is warm and steaming, a bowl of stewed greens seasoned with pepper and butter, baked yams or potatoes, glazed carrots, and roasted chicken. We pass the bowls around and pile the food on our plates. I haven't seen so much good food in ages. My stomach rumbles as delicious scents hit my nose. I look to those around me to see when it's appropriate to eat. Sylvie and Gale are the only two who haven't any food on their plates. They're both clearly waiting to make sure everyone else has enough. Sylvie passes the food to Gale, trying to get him to serve himself first, but he refuses.

"Ladies first," he insists.

Sylvie looks like she's about to protest, but relents fills her plate before passing the bowls to Gale. I feel a little ashamed that I didn't think of doing the same. Sylvie thanks Gale and lifts her spoon, signaling us all to eat.

There isn't much talking as we all begin. The youngest attack their plates. I'm inclined to do the same, but it seems Cinda is determined to make conversation. She's sitting up straight in her chair and trying her best to appear lady-like. Effie would be proud to have such an eager student. I don't know why, but I suddenly want to show her up. I recall all of my training at the Capitol, holding my silverware daintily, carefully cutting my meat and taking small, pretty bites despite my hunger.

"So, you all are from District 12?" Cinda asked. "What's that like?"

I have to stifle a laugh at the question, "horrible."

"It can't be that bad!" Cinda's eyes are bright. "What's the town like? Do you have a school? Shops?"

And suddenly I feel a little bad. Cinda's probably never had any real friends other than her siblings. She might not even have ever met anyone outside her family. She's probably never been in any other building other than this house.

"Yeah, we do," Gale patiently begins. He indulges the girls with descriptions of the town, but also makes it clear about the hardship. "Twelve is pretty small. We do have a town, but few people can afford to shop there."

"So what do you do for food?" Little May pipes up, looking legitimately concerned.

Gale smiles at her fondly. "We scrounge, hunt, and trade."

"Ohh," she nods, processing the information.

"So that's why so many people want to leave," Cinda nods as she figures it out.

"Yeah," Gale says, "it can be pretty bad. Some districts are worse than others, but twelve is one of the worst. But not everything is so bad," Gale says, glancing in my direction. I've got a mouthful of chicken and swallow quickly, thinking he wants me to say something. But I don't know what to add.

"No, it's pretty awful." I say, giving Gale a curious look. He only smiles and shakes his head.

"Not always," he disagrees. The smile doesn't leave from his face.

"Did you have families?" Willow asks, looking up from her plate. I think this is the first time I heard her voice.

"Of course," Gale says. "I've got a mom, two little brothers and a little sister."

"And a dad?" Willow continues.

"He died working in the mines. So did Katniss's."

"I'm sorry," Sylvie says.

"It happened a long time ago," Gale remarks, "And lots of people die in the mines in Twelve."

Everyone is awkwardly silent for a minute. I've no idea why I can make it better. "I've got a mom and a little sister too." Everyone turns and looks at me. "My sister's name is Prim. She's about your age," I look at Willow. She blushes as she looks back at me.

For the rest of the meal, the children ask us about life in District Twelve. They are amazed to hear about even the simplest things.

"Now children," Sylvie finally puts a stop to their questions. "We don't want to pester our guests too much."

"No, it's okay," I tell her, feeling much more talkative now that I'm no longer hungry. "They remind me of how we Seam kids talk about the Capitol."

"What's the Capitol?" Glennie asks.

"That's the place everyone in the Districts works for," Gale explains.

Glennie nods, "what's that like?"

"Better ask Katniss that one, I've never been."

All the little faces are suddenly looking to me. "Oh," I begin, "Well, it's very very big and the people have the most amazing clothes…" I search my mind for good things to say about the Capitol to the children but it's hard for me to find anything, so I try to think of neutral things. "Oh, and they have more food than you can imagine. They probably throw away more food in a day that District Twelve eats in a month."

"Why did you get to go to the Capitol?" Trek asks.

I sense Gale suddenly tense. He didn't mean for the conversation to take this turn. He hardly asks me about the Games, and usually, I'm just as happy not to talk to them.

"Every year," I began carefully, "two children from each district are chosen to go to the Capitol to represent their district."

"Represent them for what?" Trek presses.

I look over at Sylvie, it's clear from her expression that she knows what the Games are. I don't want to say anything too dark to her children. I've no idea what they know. Judging from their faces, not much. "A competition, sort of," I explain.

"Ohh, like a game?" he asks excitedly.

"Yes, very much like a game," I say, "and the winner gets supplies and things for their district and family."

"That sounds awesome," the young boy says. I don't know what else to say, so I only nod. Sylvie is now looking at me with a bit of pity, and I can hardly bare it. The way Cinda is looking at me has also changed, and I think she must have some idea what the Games are too. I'm feeling really uncomfortable and am wishing someone would do something to take the attention away from me.

It's Gale to the rescue, as always. Just as Trek was about to ask another question, Gale cuts him off. "That was an excellent meal, Sylvie. Can I help you clean up?"

I look over at him thankfully and realize his hand is on my thigh, trying to comfort me. I place my hand on top of his and he squeezes it reassuringly.

"Oh, yes, Gale, that would be lovely," Sylvie responds, probably equally happy to change the subject.

"I can help too," I say, this time, sure to remember my manners.

"Thank you so much."

I stay in the kitchen cleaning as long as I can to avoid playing with the children. Once Gale'd helped carry all the dirty dishes to the sink he was pulled away by Glennie and May to play in the living room. Sylvie smiled fondly as she dried the dishes I handed to her, clearly happy to see everyone getting along so well. I smile as I look at her. I can't even imagine what it is she's feeling. But it's good to see a woman who's been so nice to us look happy.

"He's a good man," Sylvie tells me as she grabs a wet mug from my hands. I nod, not sure how I can add to the conversation.

"Yeah, he's the best man I know."

"He loves you," she adds.

I'm not sure what she means by this. I look at her as if she's told me something as plain as the color of the sky. "I know," I respond, meeting her eyes, "he's my best friend. We'd do anything for each other." This time it is Sylvie who nods at me as I hand her another dish.

When there's nothing left to do in the kitchen, Sylvie and I go to the living room. Gale is sitting on the floor playing with the younger kids. May and Glennie are climbing over him and they all have smiles on their faces, even Willow and Cinda who are sitting on the couch nearby.

"Now what is going on in here?" Sylvie says with exaggerated surprise as she enters the room. Her younger children look up to her and try to stifle their giggling.

"We're playing!"

"I can see that," Sylvie laughs back. Everyone in the room seems so happy, even Willow, who seems so reserved and quiet, is smiling and bouncing the baby on her knee. I feel like an alien here, like they are all part of something I'll never understand. I look around from one beaming face to the next and just can't understand. I try to remember the time I spent with my family, but we were never like this. But not with my mom…my sister…

Little May comes running over to me. "Come play with us too, Katniss!"

"Yeah, play!" Glennie echoes.

"Oh…" I falter, unsure of what to do.

Gale notices my discomfort. "Oh, I'm getting tired," Gale yawned exaggeratedly.

"What!?"

"Yeah," he yawns again, stretching out his long arms and knocking both of the children as he does, "I'm getting sooooo soooo sleepy."

The giggles begin to die down, "No!"

But Sylvie picks up and agrees. "He's right! It's already dark. And I know a couple of short people who are supposed to be in bed."

"No," the little voices chorus.

"Yes, yes," their mother repeats. Sylvie gets up and grabs the baby from Willow. "Cinda dear, and Willow, go grab your stuff from your room, we're going to let our guests sleep in there tonight. I'm sorry," she says, now addressing us, "we don't' have any extra rooms here, so you're going to sleep in the girls' room."

"We don't want to inconvenience anyone," I quickly say.

"Yeah," Gale adds, "we're quite used to the floor."

"Oh, no, they can share my room with me. There's plenty of room in my bed with their father gone." Gale opens his mouth to protest, but Sylvie silences him again. "Let me show you to the room." We get up and follow. "I hope that you two are comfortable in here. There are several blankets on the bed and I've put some night clothes for you on the dresser," she points as she says this, "and the bathroom's right by the porch should you need it." The children scamper past us as Sylvie shows us the room. The younger ones protest as the older ones round them up. Gale and I thank her, and as doors shut around us, we enter the room.

Gale lights the lamp. The room is small. There is one large bed pushed tight against two walls. I figure the three girls can probably sleep comfortably in there. At least while May is still so small. As I look at the bed, I remember when Prim and I shared a bed. That was before she started sleeping in the same bed as my mother. I was always annoyed when she slept with me, but to be honest, I also missed her when she was gone.

"I'll sleep on the floor," Gale says as soon as he sees there's only one bed.

"Don't be silly," I counter. "We've slept next to each other before." _Does it make any difference if it's on the floor or in a bed?_ But as soon as I think it, I realize, for some reason it does.

Gale grabs one blanket and a pillow and makes a little bed for himself on the floor.

"Are you sure?" I ask him one more time.

"Of course," he repeats, "I'm so used to sleep on the floor now anyhow, I'm more comfortable here anyhow." Gale smiles as he says this and tosses me my sleeping clothes. I barely have enough time to react and just catch them. The smile doesn't leave Gale's face as he turns around and prepares to change. He's pulling off his shirt by the time I realize what he's doing and I also turn to follow suit. Once we're changed, I climb into bed and Gale kneels on his knees, face on level with mine, before he situates himself on the floor.

"You okay, Catnip?"

"Yeah," I say, though I part of me knows I'm lying. But since I don't even understand what it is I'm feeling, there's no point in worrying Gale.

"Alright," he says with an expression I can't quite read. "Good night."


	21. Chapter 21

Gale is asleep in no time. I can tell because his breathing always changes when he's sleeping. It's deep, rhythmic, and even. Sleep, however, doesn't come so easily for me. The smiling, nice faces swirl around my head and for some reason make me very uneasy. As I close my eyes, I can hear them laughing, and for some reason, I can't help but think they are laughing at me. Their images mix with memories of Prim and my mother. They too are smiling and happy. This should comfort me, but I can't help but think it's because I'm away. They are happier without me. I've spent my whole life trying to protect them and part of me thinks the best thing I ever could have done was leave them. They're better off this way, without me. Dark thoughts begin to creep into my mind. _Everyone is better off without me_ , I think. _My mom, Prim, Peeta, Haymitch. Gale even too_. _Poor Gale,_ I think, _he'd be so much better off if he'd never known me._ I think about all the pain and grief I've brought him. I wonder how his family is doing, how they're making out without him…they've all suffered so much because of me.

I try to calm myself and push these thoughts from my mind. But seeing everyone so happy tonight, seeing a family so happy tonight won't leave me. The image is like a rock in my shoe cutting into my foot, and it gets deeper and deeper and more painful, and I'm not sure why. Shouldn't seeing a happy family be a source of hope or comfort to me? But it's not. Instead it's like a cruel reminder of something I'll never have. _Something I'll never want,_ I remind myself as I find an uneasy sleep.

* * *

I'm walking back to my house at the Seam. The small, familiar, cramped but cozy little shack I grew up in. I never liked it much, but home is home, and I sigh a breath of relief as I reach for the door.

"Katniss!" Prim squeals, running up to me as I walk in.

"Hey, little duck," I say, reaching down to pinch her chin.

I throw down my satchel and walk go to the living room.

"Catnip," a familiar voice greets me. As I turn the corner, I see Gale. I smile and move to hug him. But before I can, another voice pipes my name.

"Katniss!" It's Posey. "Come play!" I turn to greet her, about to say I can't, but before I'm able to, I see more and more faces. Vick and Rory are here too. "Hey, Katniss!"

"Hi," I respond with a wondering tone.

"Come play with us, Katniss." The boys cry.

And Posey and Prim echo, "Katniss, come play!"

"What are you all doing here?" I ask to avoid their call.

But no one answers. Instead, I see more and more faces, all calling my name. Our neighbors' kids Sam and Chip. Some of Prim's friends from school. "Katniss," they call, some reach for my hand and pull me. "Katniss, come play!" Glennie and May join, pulling my other hand.

"I'm so sorry, I can't," I say, trying to detach myself from all the eager little hands.

"Why not, Catnip?" Gale is addressing me. There's a disapproving look on his face. He shakes his head as I search for an acceptable answer.

"I…I…" I _certainly I have something better to do,_ I think. I try to explain I have to hunt, or gather food, or cut wood, or clean something, but none of those words will escape my lips. And instead, my mouth just hangs open and I stammer, "I…I…"

"As usual, Katniss, it's all about you," Gale says and turns away to go play with the children. I feel like I've just been stabbed in the heart as I watch him scoop some small blond child up in his arms who I recognize but don't know the name up. They both erupt in laughter.

I try to explain to Gale. "It's not about me, Gale, please! That's not what I meant!" But everyone is busy playing and giggling, and no one can hear me over the uproar. They all look so happy.

 _Maybe I should go play with them, I think, what's it going to hurt?_ "Okay," I call with a smile on my face. "I'll play. I'll play with you guys." They still can't seem to hear me. "Prim! Posey!" I say louder as I walk through the crowd of riotous children, "I'll play."

Neither Prim nor Posey react to me.

"You say you want to play?" A blonde figure says, turning around to face me. It's Effie Trinket, and she's dressed even more ridiculously than usual. She gets up off the floor and grabs my arm. "We're so happy you want to play, Katniss," she says as she pulls me out the door.

I stammer and try to find something to say, but I'm so shocked at seeing Effie, I can't find any words. My mind is moving in slow motion, trying to figure out what she is doing here. I will my tongue to say her name, but it is thick and useless in my mouth. "Effie," I choke, "Effie, wait, stop, please, where are we going?"

"Don't be rude, Katniss," she chirps, pulling me along more forcefully. I try hard to wriggle free, but Effie's grip is like a vice. It hurts as I struggle.

"Where are we going?" I repeat.

She stops and looks at me like I'm the most tedious person in the world. "You said you wanted to play, Katniss."

"Well, yes…"

"Come on then, there's no time to waste!" she chirps and resumes dragging me.

I try to ask more questions, by the words just get caught in my throat. Effie drags me down a long, white hallway until we reach a door.

"Where are we going, Effie?" I ask as she throws it open.

"To the Games, of course!" her voice is as bright as ever and she leads me out the door.

"The Games?" I stammer, trying to make sense of it all. "You don't mean…" I ask as I pull away from her again.

"You did say you wanted to play, didn't you?" A man is speaking this time. It takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the light.

My stomach turns to ice and my feet feel as heavy as stones.

It's President Snow.

"No," I say as I try to back away, "no…"

"But, my dear Ms. Everdeen, you said you wanted to play." His thin, cold lips curve into a cruel smile.

"No…" I stammer again and again, trying to back up.

"But Katniss, darling, you volunteered," Effie reminds me in her annoying accent.

"I don't want to go back," I scream as I look for a place to run. "I don't want to go back! I don't want to play! I don't want to play!"

"Katniss, Katniss, Katniss…" Snow and Effie are circling me. "Katniss, Katniss…" I now see Peeta, Cinna, and Haymitch too. They are also calling my name and surrounding me, closing in. "Katniss, Katniss," more and more people are pressing in on me.

"I don't want to play," I fall to the ground and curl in to a ball, "please, don't make me go back, I don't want to go back, please, please, please," I sob.

"Katniss."

"No!" I scream as someone grabs me. "Please, no!"

"Katniss, hey, Katniss." This voice sounds different from the others. "Katniss!"

My eyes burst open and I realize it's Gale. I'm in bed back at Sylvie's cabin. "Please, please," I spurt, still trying to shake my nightmare.

"Hey," he pulls me into his arms, and kisses my forehead," it's okay, Catnip, I'm here, I'm here."

"No, Gale, please, I don't want to…"

"You don't have to, not as long as I'm here," He says, holding me tighter.

"No, not the games, please, no," I continue to sob as Gale rocks me.

"It's okay, it's okay," he strokes my hair.

"I don't want to go back, I don't want to go back. Please, please…"

"You don't ever have to. It was just a bad dream, Katniss, you're safe now." Gale says. He takes my face in his hands and tilts it up to look at him. Tears are streaming from my eyes. I want to look away but can't. "Katniss," he says, and looks like he wants to say something more. But I can't bare it so I bury my face in his chest and continue to cry until I fall asleep again.

I finally awake the next morning when the warm light from the window begins to be uncomfortable. I'm on the floor – where I sank into Gale's arms the night before, I remember – and he apparently made me comfortable with extra blankets and pillows. But he's nowhere to be found. I grab a sweater from behind the door, put on some socks, and walk out of the room.

"Katniss," Sylvie says warmly as I walk into the kitchen, "how nice to see you. Did you sleep well?"

I nod and try not to remember my nightmare. "I haven't been sleeping too long, have I?"

"Not at all," she says as she pulls a chair out for me. "In fact, the youngest ones are still asleep too. Gale and I got up around dawn, and Cinda not long thereafter, but the rest are still asleep. What can I get you for breakfast?" She asks as she put on her apron.

"Oh," I can't help but feel really awkward. "Just whatever is easiest. Has Gale already eaten? And Cinda?"

"Yes, they ate together about an hour ago. I made them some potatoes and eggs. Would you like that as well?"

"Yeah," I say, a bit slowly. "That'd be fine."

I try to shake all the sleep from my body as Sylvie serves me food. The potatoes and eggs are well seasoned and quite excellent. I'd forgotten how much I'd liked eggs and make a point of Sylvie. "That was really good," I say, wiping my mouth. "I'd almost forgotten what salt and pepper tasted like."

Sylvie smiles at me. I really wonder how she can be so nice. I offer to help do the dishes, but she refused, insisting she can manage. "I had Cinda wash your clothes this morning," she calls to me from the sink, "they are out on the line drying now. They should be done, if you want to check and change. I'm sure you'll be more comfortable in your own clothing. I know I always am."

I look at her thankfully and nod. Sylvie starts to scrub her pots as I head towards the porch to the back. I see Cinda and Willow craning out a window as I walk through the living room. They are both giggling. For a moment I think about asking them what is so funny, but I don't, and when I reach the porch, I realize: they are ogling Gale. He's in the back, shirtless, chopping wood.

He was still wearing the pants Sylvie gave him, and they fit tightly on his muscular form. The shirt was off, however, and I was reminded of how grown up my childhood friend really was. Gale put the ax down for a second and stopped to swipe the sweat of his brow from the mid morning sun. He was totally unaware of his audience as he reached for the next log to split. For some reason, I'm annoyed by Cinda and Willow's antics. I want to tell them they shouldn't be watching, but since I'm doing the same, I don't know what to say. I don't like the way these girls are looking at my friend though, even if I can't figure out why.

I force myself to stop looking at Gale, and continue through the porch to the back yard where the laundry line is. Both my, Gale's and some of the family's clothes are hanging there. I feel my shirt, and it's still damp.

"They're still wet," I hear Gale call. I turn to look at him. He sets down the ax and walks over to me.

"Yeah, I guess I'm wearing that dress for another day," I say with a bit of a frown.

Gale laughs. "At least it fits you!" he say, fidgeting with his pants uncomfortably. Gale looks at me and his smile flickers. "Are you okay today?" His tone suddenly becomes more serious.

I look away, not really sure how to explain, not sure how to make Gale understand when I'm not quite sure if I understand myself. I nod and try to smile reassuringly. Images from my nightmare come rushing back to me, and I shudder as I try to fight them off.

Gale looks me up and down questioningly. "Well, just let me know if you want to talk."

I nod thankfully and can't think of anything else to say. I'd rather not think or talk about it, so I change the subject. "Need any help?"

"You can stack up the logs I've already chopped," Gale says, "Sylvie's got a wood rack on the side of the house."

"Great," I return, "let me go change."

"Into your dress?" His eyes sparkle as he says them.

 _Why on earth would I wear my dress to work?_ I think incredulously. "Of course not," I say genuinely. But as I look at Gale, I can see he wasn't being serious. He smiles at me and shakes his head the way he always does when I don't understand something.

"Too bad," he says, turning to walk away.

I'm still not sure what he meant, but I go inside and ask Sylvie if she has any clothes for me to work in. She gives me an old shirt that has a few tears in it but with serve just fine for doing chores and another pair of her husband's pants. There are far too big for me, and I have to wrap a piece of chord around myself twice to hold them up.

It's nice to be busy. Gale and I busy ourselves for the rest of the day. After chopping a fair amount of wood, I stack it all and collect kindling. Gale climbs to the roof and repairs some of her shingles in the afternoon and I clean the gutters. Trek comes out to join us, and seems eager to learn from Gale. Gale seems equally happy to have a student and enjoys teaching the child how to measure, cut, and install the new roofing.

By the time we've finished, it's time for lunch. Gale is a sweaty mess and I'm not much better as I'm covered with gutter gook. We try to wash up a bit before the food. Cinda kindly brings out a big pan of warm water and soap for us. I take to scrubbing my hands and nails as she stands by holding towels and watching us. Well, not us, but Gale. I look up at her and her eyes are glued. Gale's taking one of the sponges and passing over his strong arms. The water runs in little rivers down his muscles. He cups his hands and splashes water on his face and over his head and shakes it off. I feel like he's moving in slow motion. My first impulse is to roll my eyes and chastise Cinda for being so silly. Her behavior reminds me of the rich town girls who sometimes watched the young Seam men working. I always used to hate those girls. I hated their behavior, objectifying people that way, reducing them to nothing but a toy to be used for their own pleasure. Exactly the same thing the Capitol does to all the district people. But those thoughts don't hit me today. I don't want to rebuke Cinda, I don't think of being exploited by the Capitol. For the first time, I understand why they all want to watch: it's fun. For the first time, Gale's incredible body doesn't mean how hard a life he's had or how much work he can do. For the first time, I notice that it is beautiful. And something warm shivers inside of me. My face feels warm, and I think I might be blushing. I sheepishly turn away and aggressively start scrubbing my hands.

 _I should not be thinking about my best friend this way_ , I tell myself, _especially since he'd never think about me this way…_ I look down self consciously at my over sized pants and the large shirt with the rip across the stomach and in the arm pit. Cinda is wearing another nice and simple dress. It fits her well and even though she's probably a bit younger than me, she looks more womanly.

"I'm going to go change," I say before I realize what I'm doing. Gale stops and looks up at me curiously. "These are pretty dirty." I gesture at my outfit and leave before I do anything else awkward. I hurry to the room and put on the dress I was wearing the night before. As I look at myself in the mirror, I wonder what on earth I'm doing and fiddle with my hair. I'm not sure I look any better or feel any more comfortable. I huff frustrated and throw it back in my usually braid. I nearly run into Gale I as march of the room. "Sorry," I stammer as I see him.

"No worries. I brought you your clothes, I didn't know if you wanted to wear them. They are just about dry now," he holds up my shirt and pants."

"Oh," I realize I probably should be wearing them. "Thanks. I…I'm already changed, so….the dress suits me fine."

"It does." He smiles and turns to let me pass in front of him and follows me into the kitchen.

Sylvie's made some fresh bread and soup. It's been so long since I've had soft bread, I scarf it down. I'd forgotten how good bread was. The children squabble and chatter around the table, and Sylvie thanks us for helping out.

"It's no problem," Gale responds, "if you want to make a list of other things you need done, I'll do what I can over the next few days."

"Oh, thank you so much!" Sylvie seems legitimately excited at the prospect. "My husband Cott's been gone awhile now, and I know when he gets back, he'll be too tired to do anything for the first few says."

"Just tell me what you need done," Gale says in between bites, "it's the least we can do for you after everything you've done for us."

"Well, there isn't too much more to be done," Sylvie says, folding her napkin in her lap, "unless you like to hunt…."

My eyes shoot up and meet Gale's. His look as excited as mine. We both smile. "Sylvie," Gale says, "you're in luck, Katniss here," he reaches over and touches my hand, "is the best hunter I've ever seen." I look away and blush as he says this, "tomorrow, we'll get you more game to feed you and your family for a whole season."

* * *

Gale and I rise early the next morning. I put on my own clothes and my old hunting boots feel good on my feet. As I grab my bow and head out the door, I feel myself again.

"Which way, Ms. Everdeen?"

"I don't know," I say as we walk out the door. The world is so full of possibility. I survey the landscape around me. There is a thin layer of mist blanketing the green world. The sun isn't visible yet, but it's growing light. "What do you think?"

Gale is smiling. "Last night, I saw a few deer at the edge of the garden. Sylvie sent Trek out to shoo them away. I'm game for tracking down a buck, if you are."

"Please," I playfully nudge him and accept the challenge and start walking towards the trees behind the garden.

"Katniss."

"What?"

"The deer went that way." Gale smirks as he points away from the vegetable patch.

"Oh." I try not to sound like he's bested me.

Gale is right about the deer. We find several fresh footprints and follow their tracks into the woods, looking for prints and broken branches to guide us. It isn't too long until we find some of their scat.

"Pretty fresh," I say, examining it. Gale pokes it with a stick and nods.

"We can't be too far behind them. Maybe an hour or two?"

"Yeah, as long as they aren't still running."

"Doubt it. They probably stopped to sleep somewhere along the way."

We resume our tracking. If I let myself, I can almost think I'm back in the woods around District Twelve. These woods aren't quite the same. They're rockier and hillier, but, if I don't look too hard, it's like being back at home. I never thought thinking of Twelve would be a source of comfort to me, but, strangely, it is. As we make our way into the woods, memories come flooding back to me.

"Do you remember that time," I start to laugh so hard I have a hard time talking. Gale throws me a quizzical glance. He thinks I've gone mad, but I keep laughing, "do you remember…when you…got…"

"Katinss – " he knows where I'm going and doesn't think it's funny. "You're going to scare off the animals," he tries to stop me.

"Got sprayed by the skunk?" I almost snort as I say it.

Gale's face remembers and tells me he doesn't think it's as amusing as I do.

"You tracked it for like four miles…thought it was a wild dog or something?"

"I was young!"

"And followed the tracks into a tree hollow." I keep laughing. "Why on earth did you think a dog would be sleeping in a tree hollow?"

Gale is shaking his head. "It isn't funny. I took me over a week to get rid of that stench!"

"I remember."

"My mom made me sleep outside! And she never got the stink out of my clothes. I had to wear them for another six months smelling that way."

"Haha, yeah, I remember. I think I was the only person who'd talk to you."

"Just about," Gale scowls.

"Come on, it wasn't so bad." But I can tell Gale isn't totally over this incident and don't press him too much further even though a few more laughs escape my lips. "Well, at least your learned your lesson about sticking your hands in dark holes."

Gale sighs deeply. I can tell he's not amused. "Not like you're so perfect yourself, you know. I can't even remember all of the scrapes you've gotten yourself into."

"But at least I've never been sprayed by a skunk!" I laugh again.

"No, but you've nearly drowned. Twice I think. You've fallen out of more trees than I can count. Didn't you get bit by a goose once?"

"Yeah," I sheepishly admit. "But that was a mean goose!"

"And there was that time you shot down a bee's nest."

"Ohh, yeah, that wasn't good."

"No," Gale says, "it wasn't. I think I still have scars."

"Hey, I never asked you to play the hero!" I remember how Gale's body reacted when my arrow hit the large nest. He moved so quickly I didn't even see it land. He grabbed me and threw me against a tree, pressing his body tightly against mine. He didn't move until the sound of the angry insects died down. And when I did, I saw that he'd be stung at least a hundred times. His back, his neck, his arms, his legs. I'd only been stung a few negligible times, but he, he was in pain. I threw his arm over my shoulder and helped him back to my mother. She spent three hours pulling the stingers out of his skin. He was lucky, she told me, that they were bees and not wasps or hornets. Their stings contain venom. If he'd been stung that many times with venom…. "You didn't have to shield me," I insist.

"Instinct, I guess," Gale says like it was no big deal. But I know it was. I remember how he laid on my mom's table for two days. I remember helping her apply the salve to his back. Him writhing in pain while he slept.

"Well, thanks for that."

"Don't mention it, Catnip."

"Seriously," I say turning to face him, "you're always there for me." My words are almost a question.

"Someone's got to look out for you." Gale says without stopping, so I reach out and grab him. My eyes pull at his. He smiles, "I was really hoping Haymitch would take over. But here I am." I can tell Gale is making a joke to avoid something serious.

"I guess I just can't help but get myself into trouble."

"Well, I guess I just can't help but try and get you out of it." He brings his hand to mind and squeezes it reassuringly. "Come on, we don't want those deer to get too far ahead of us."

Luckily, the deer are pretty easy to track. Since it rained only a few days ago, the earth is still wet enough in some places to reveal their tracks. We continue on well into t he morning. The sun is getting high and hot. We've been gone for nearly four hours, I estimate, and when we come upon a small stream, we stop for a snack. Gale pulls an apple out of his sack and begins to cut it as I fill our water bottle. I take a long drink and then trade it off to him for an apple half. We munch in silence. Gale is starting off into the distance, something deep is working in his mind.

"What are you thinking about?" I say with a small smile.

He shakes the thoughts from his head and throws the last hunk of apple into his mouth before responding. "Oh, nothing."

"What?"

"I was just thinking," he pauses, "how nice this is."

"Yeah, just like the old days. Never thought I'd think fondly of them but – "

"I wasn't thinking of the past."

"Oh?" I don't follow him.

"I was thinking…." He chooses his words carefully, "I could get used to this."

"What do you mean?"

"This," he gestures around him, "this life."

"Gale, this is exactly the same life we had back in Twelve. Hunting out in the woods, only" I start to see where he's going with this, "there's no fear of the Capitol out here."

"Exactly."

"So this is how you want to spend the rest of your life?"

"I could do it." His tone is more serious than mine. He meets my gaze. "You know I could."

And I remember a conversation he and I had about a year ago. When we were out hunting in a forest very similar to this. Gale's words come rushing back to me.

_We could do it, you know…Run off, live in the woods, you and I, we could make it…_

For a moment, I wonder what would have happened if I'd said yes to him. I wonder what would have happened between us, where our lives would have taken us. But then I remember: if I'd said yes to him, there would have been no one to volunteer for Prim. That she would have gone into the Games. That she would have died in the Games.

There is no use in wasting yourself on what ifs and wishes. That's one of the few things I know for sure. I didn't go with Gale. I couldn't. I couldn't leave my family. And I didn't want one of my own.

_But that was before…_

I shut that thought down before it even starts. "I think this would be a great life for you, Gale." I touch my friend's arm tenderly.

"And not for you?"

"I don't think much about the future beyond tomorrow."

"Katniss, don't you ever let yourself hope for something better?"

"What's the point in that? I don't need more disappointment in my life."

"Katniss – "

"We're two kids from Twelve, Gale, I'll be happy if I can eat at least once a day for the rest of my life."

"But we're changing things! Come on, Katniss, why do you think we're out here!? Trying to get to Thirteen!" He jumps up, passionately, and he's speaking in that same tone he always takes when he rants about the Capitol. But he calms himself after a moment. "And anyway, we're not always going to be kids."

I'm not sure where he's going with this. But this was one of the chief differences between Gale and me. No one would guess it, but he was a dreamer. He did think of the future. He did want something better. These dreams were what gave him the energy, the motivation, to hate the Capitol so much, which was something I never had. My ire for the Capitol revolved around how they interfered with my life on a day to day basis. It was never about principles for me, like it was with Gale, only practicality.

Gale looks at me. He's upset, and I don't want him to be. "I guess I just never thought I'd have a life to call my own," I offer him. "But maybe I can." I try to sound hopeful for Gale's sake.

"Sure you can, Catnip. Doesn't seeing Sylvie remind you of that?"

"You like staying with her." It's half a question.

"I do," he confesses.

"Because it reminds you of your family?"

"Not exactly."

"No?"

"I guess it reminds me…" he chooses his words carefully, "of the family I could have."

Gale is looking at me intently and I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes. I'm again taken back to the day of the reaping, when we were together in the woods. I remember thinking:

_If Gale wants kids, he won't have any trouble finding a wife._

And for some reason, that thought bothers me now.

"I know, Katniss," he seems to sense my mood, "you don't want any kids."

I'd probably told Gale that about a thousand times, but I'd never told him this: "I always thought I'd have to have them, though."

"Really?"

"Oh, I'd try and avoid it for as long as possible, don't get me wrong. But I guess I'd have to in the end. That is, if I could find someone who'd have me."

"I'm sure you'd have no problems there."

"Please," I say a bit exaggeratedly. "I'm the town weirdo, remember? That strange girl who doesn't always bathe regularly and doesn't like to talk to people. I think most people were afraid of me."

"I don't think so," Gale disagrees.

"Anyway," I shift uncomfortably as I say if, "I probably just would have made you marry me."

"Really?" he says with a bit of a laugh.

"Well, I already know you." We're moving into awkward territory now. I'm not quite sure what to say. "But you'd probably marry someone else."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because," I wave my hand at him like it's so obvious. "You're…you!"

"I am." He doesn't get what I mean.

"All the girls liked you."

"Doesn't mean I liked them." He's said this to me before.

"Well, I'm sure one caught your eye over the years."

"One sure did," he says, looking at me intently.

For the first time I start to wonder if Gale means me. Our relationship has been non-romantic for so long, I've always assumed that he feels nothing for me other than platonic friendship. But then again, he's done a lot for me. A lot more than most friends would do for each other. Of course, Gale's and my friendship isn't like most peoples. But still, if he liked me in some capacity beyond that, wouldn't he have done something by now? We've been alone all this time…And am I even certain I like him that way? Or do I just like the way he looks? I'm so bad at figuring out what I want.

All these thoughts spinning around my head are starting to make me feel dizzy.

"Are you okay, Katniss?" Gale looks a bit concerned. I must have a funny look on my face.

"Oh," I try and recover, "just thinking about all of that. Marriage. Family. Kids…still not sure I'm sold on the whole thing."

"Come on, you don't want a little Katniss running around?"

"I especially don't want a little Katniss running around. What a nightmare that would be." We both laugh. "But I don't know," I say after a long pause.

"Don't know what?"

Gale looks at me, face punctuated with a question mark, so I continue. "I mean, I don't know. I never wanted kids because I couldn't imagine bringing children into our world. Into the district, to the reapings. But if you're right, if that is about to change, if it is possible to live away from all that like Sylive does, maybe I should reconsider things…" I can't quite read the expression Gale is giving me. "Don't get me wrong, Hawthorne, I'm not completely sold on the whole giving birth and diapers things, but…"

My words hang in the air and I wonder if Gale is feeling as awkward as I am. I feel like I've got a lot of stuff to figure out and crinkle my brow. Gale's looking at me like he's trying to read me and I wish I were half as good at reading him. _Could he really like me? Or is he just being a good friend? Why on Earth are we talking about having kids and a family…Guys tells girls if they like them, right? That's what Peeta did. And he did it a lot. Of course, it took him several years to muster up the courage to do it. And only once we were faced with certain death..._

This sort of stuff is not my sort of game. I can't imagine how most girls my age survive if this is all they think about. I'd go insane. _Best not to dwell on it too much_ , I tell myself, _especially when there is so much other stuff more important to worry about. Like dinner._

"Come on, Gale," I say getting up, "we don't want the food to get too far away from us."

He smiles and agrees, and we silently resume our hunt.

We pick up our speed to make up for the time lost at lunch. After another hour, we find some more scat and it looks very fresh. Gale thinks we're getting close. Not long after we found their beds.

"Still warm," Gale said, pressing his hand to the indented dirt. "They were here not too long ago."

"Something must have scared them off," I say.

"Yeah. We may have competition."

We follow their tracks northwards. When it's clear they slowed from a run we figure they passed whatever spooked them and probably found a place to sleep again.

"They're probably nesting close by," I say, leaning against a tall oak tree.

"Perhaps."

"Remember how we got that buck that one time?" My eyes sparkle as I remember.

"Which time?"

"Come on, Gale," I playfully nudge him, "It's not like we downed that many bucks in our day."

"We've caught a few."

"Okay," I relent, "remember that time you called to scare them off and I was up in the tree to shoot them down?"

Gale nods.

I gesture towards the large tree I'm leaning against.

"That could probably work," he says, "just be careful up there."

"I'm always careful!"

"And still you fall."

"Only like twice!" I defend.

"You've fallen out of more trees than you've shot bucks."

I make an unhappy noise, but I know he's right. "I'll be careful," I say. Gale looks at me dubiously. "I promise."

He nods. I'm not really sure if he believes me or if he knows that there's no point in arguing with me. "You better be," he says, "because if I have to choose between lugging your ass back or the bucks', I'm choosing his."

"Ha ha," I say in mock laughter and start up the tree. This oak is huge and will defiantly give me a great vantage point over the surrounding area. If the deer are sleeping anywhere within a mile of here, I'll see them. Once I'm in the top of the tree, I call down to Gale, to tell him I'm ready. I'm so high up, I can just barely make out his thumbs up gesture before he starts walking off.

To my right, the forest begins to thin and the ground gets pretty rocky. I can see a few giant boulders that slice through the forest and beyond that, the ground splits open into a small cavern or something. To my left, the trees continue, and I figure that's where the deer probably are. I realize I'm right when I see Gale following some tracks in that direction. He goes a few hundred meters before he stops and makes a loud howling call. Sounds just like a wild dog. Definitely enough to scare any wild animal off. A few birds fly off, but I don't see anything else move. Nothing does. Gale makes the call again. It echoes throughout the woods. My eyes quickly scan all the area around me. And then I see it, to the far left, the green begins to waver. I see a flash of brown, then another. The deer are running. They start sprinting to my right and it takes me a few moments to adjust my aim. They're surrounded by a lot of underbrush right now. My visibility on them is poor, and I question how to make the hit. But then I realize, they are heading towards the rocks. There, the plant growth thins. If I can just wait for them to get there, I'll have a clear shot. I aim my bow in that direction and wait. In only a few seconds, the deer family is visible. First, two does appear, slowing a bit when they hit the rocky ground. When the buck appears, I'm ready. I lose my string and in an instant the great animal falls. The others are so startled by this they scatter. I quickly restring my bow to see if I'll need another, but the animal is down for good. I call down to Gale triumphantly as I scamper down the tree. He says something I can't quite make out, but he's at the base of the tree before I am.

"I got him, Gale! I got him!" I scream as I just from a branch about fifteen feet from the ground. Gale reaches out to try and catch me.

"Be careful!" He says as he sort of catches me and I sort of land on him. "God, Katniss!"

"Gale," I say, to jubilant to heed his warnings, "I got him!"

"I heard," he says, brushing himself off. But when he sees how happy I am, he congratulates me, "I knew you would. Which direction'd they go in?"

"This way," I point and eagerly start towards the rocks.

I'm nearly running, calling back to Gale to speed up. He's walking along, still studying the ground as if we're tracking the animal. "Come on, Gale!" but he doesn't listen or look up at me. "I know where the animal is."

In a few minutes we reach the clearing. I stop and wait for Gale to catch up with me. "See," I tell him triumphantly. The large deer is lying dead with one of my arrows through his eye on the rocky outcrop. "A perfect shot," I say with a smile. "And good timing too," I say smugly, "if I'd waited, he could have fallen into that chasm." It's lying only a few yards to our left. If I hadn't killed the buck instantly, he might have stumbled down there. And then where'd we be?

"Katniss," I hear him say as I walk to retrieve my arrow. I expect to hear some congratulation, laud me for my job well done. But I don't.

Instead, Gale screams, "Katniss, look out!" There is panic in his voice, and before I know what's happening, I feel Gale run into me, pushing me several feet to the side. I hit the ground hard, and it takes me a moment to recover myself. "What the hell was that for, Gale?" I ask unhappily as I push myself up. He doesn't respond, and when I look up, I realize why.

The air cracks with a savage roar, and by the time my eyes have found my best friend, all I see is his body attacking the figure of a large mountain lion. And both are tumbling over the edge of the cliff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the kudos and comments! I love hearing what you think ever-so-much, especially with what I'm doing with Gale and Katniss's relationship.


	22. Chapter 22

My eyes are fixed on the hole in the world where Gale used to be. My heart is somewhere tangled in my throat.

_No,_ I think, _This can't be. This didn't happen. What just happened?!_

"Gale!" I scream. I think, but I can't hear my voice. "Gale! Gale! Gale! Please! No! Gale! Gale! Please! No!" _I can't lose you_. My mind races. _I can't lose you!_

My hands fly to the ground and I violently push myself up. My legs scatter beneath me until I found the ground.

"Gale!" I scream again and again. "Gale!"

I'm out of touch with reality. The world is moving so slowly. I can't hear a thing. I try to make sense of what happened. But my mind is moving both forward and backward. I'm flooding with worry about all the possible outcomes and at the same time I try to figure out what just happened. The thoughts collide and nothing makes sense.

_Please be okay, please be okay._

_Where did that cat come from? How did Gale know?_

_Please be okay. Please._

I start running towards the cliff's edge and see blood smeared on the ground.

_That's from the buck, right?_

_It's too far from the deer. It's not his blood._

_Then is it his blood?_

_Please don't be Gale's blood. Please don't be Gale's blood._

_Why did he try and save me? Why does he always have to try and save me?_

Tears stream down my face as I realize I might have just lost my best friend. No. Not my best friend. Gale is the most important person in the world to me. My mother and Prim, they are family, but there is no one closer in the world to me that Gale. No one who's done as much for me as Gale. We know each other better than we know anyone else. In better ways than we know anyone else. He's not just my best friend, he's my soul mate. I love him, and I can't imagine a world without him. I can't imagine a world without him knowing this.

"Gale," I cry as I approach the cliff's edge. I barely stop myself in time to not go falling over the edge myself.

_I might as well,_ I think, _if Gale's…_

_Don't think that. He's not…_

_Dead._ The word hits me harder than a stone.

_You can't be dead,_ I think angrily, _I can't live without you! I don't know who I am without you!_ These words tear through me like a bullet, ripping at my insides. I feel like I'm falling apart. Like every atom is crumbling and I'm going to implode like a star.

_Please, Gale, you can't be dead. I can't live without you! I love you!_

The words and the thought explode from me as if somehow they can move faster than time. Reach back to before this happened. Let Gale know. Maybe change what happened.

How can I have been so stupid to have not realized this before? How could I have wasted so much time. Made him go so long without him knowing?

"Gale!" I scream. I prepare myself for what I might see as I look over the cliff. I take a deep breath and gulp as I peer downward.

"God, no. Gale"

He is laying about ten or fifteen feet below me.

Surrounded by blood.

"Gale!"

With no regard for myself, I carelessly jump over the edge myself and nearly break my ankle as I fall. I don't notice any pain, but stumble as I scramble over to him.

"No!" I cry, "Gale, no!" Tears are streaming down my face. "Gale, please!"

_Please, I need you so much! I never told you, I need to tell you. Please, please._

I thought I'd known true fear in the Games. Nearly dying of dehydration. Being hunted by the Careers. Loosing Rue. Looking for Peeta. Being chased by the mutts. Fighting Cato. Killing Cato. Winning. Facing Snow. I thought I knew everything there was to know about fear.

But until I face this moment, staring down at Gale' body, covered with blood, tears pouring down my cheeks, and about to turn him over to see…to see…to see if…

I'd never experienced fear before compared to this.

"Gale," I repeat again and again as I crouch down next to him. He's lying on his stomach. One arm tucked beneath him, the other bent in an awkward position. I place my hand on his shoulder.

"Gale?" I sputter between my tears, lightly shaking him. "Gale?!"

There's no response.

I start to wail louder. I can barely stop my body from convulsing there on the spot.

"Gale!?" I'm whimpering. I take a deep breath and force myself to turn him over. Gale is heavy and I struggle to turn him. I have to move in him two parts, first his torso, then his legs and hips. He's clutching a knife in the hand that was caught beneath him. It too is covered in blood. I wonder if he was able to get the lion or if he only hurt himself. I don't have time to search for a wound.

"Gale!" I scream again as I press my ear to his chest. I frantically search for a heartbeat. I listen closely. But my heart is beating so rapidly, I can hardly hear anything else in my ears.

I try not to panic. _You can check his mouth and nose to see if he's breathing._

I try. I place my fingers by his nostrils, but I can't tell. _Is that a breath? Or is it the wind?_

_Calm yourself, Katniss, calm yourself._ I tell myself again and again, but I'm not sure it's working. I start to cry harder, I'm so frustrated.

I place my head back on his chest and strain my ear for any sound of his heart beat. And motion of his breathing.

_Oh my god,_ I think, _he's dead._

_No he's not. Was that a breath? Was a heartbeat?_

_He's not moving! He's not breathing! He's dead._

My mind is torn. I feel so helpless and useless I don't know what to do. I pull myself up and look at my friend's body…

_No, not his body! Him! Him! Gale! Not his body!_

If I hadn't lost it yet, I do at this point. I'm trembling. Convulsing. Nothing makes sense. I sob. I cry. I scream. I lamely try to check for a pulse in his wrist.

"Please, Gale!" I beg, "Please, don't be dead. I can't lose you. I can't!"

My mind tears in different directions.

_It's okay, it's okay. He's not dead. It's okay._

_I can't hear his heart. I can't feel his breath._

_It's okay. Just check again. Check again._

_He can't be dead. He can't be._

"Gale, please!" I howled and fold myself on his chest again. "I need you. I need you so much! I love you, Gale!" I plead. "I love you!"

I start to shake his body. I start to scream.

_Not his body!_ I curse myself again. I hate myself. How could I have never told him! How could I have never realized how much he meant to me!

"Please, be okay. Please," I whimper as the voices in my head war.

_He's okay, Katniss. Just check again._

_He's not okay. Start to accept this._

"Please, be okay." I beg.

_He's not okay, Katniss._

_He is okay. Check._

"Please, please, please, Gale, be okay."

_He has to be okay._

_He might not be okay, Katniss._

"Katniss…"

"Please, Gale, please."

"Katniss…"

Suddenly something reaches up and touches my head. I jump. "Gale!" I feel like my heart explodes within me again.

His eyes open and a weak smile crosses his face.

"Oh my god, Gale! I was so worried! You're okay!"

"Well, I wouldn't go quite that far, Catnip," he says as he begins to prop himself up, grunting in pain.

_Gale's okay. Everything is okay._ I feel about a thousand pounds lighter.

"I thought I'd lost you!" I scream at him, almost like an accusation.

"You didn't," he reaches to reassure me.

I fly to him, unthinking. I'm overcome. It probably wasn't even five minutes ago that I shot down the buck, but in that time, the whole world has changed. I take his face in my hands and kiss him. I stop crying and I don't know how much time passes.

"I'm so sorry," I blurt and break away. I can't believe what I just did. _Gale doesn't like me this way. I may have ruined everything!_ As I begin to curse myself for being so stupid I realize that Gale is smiling. _That doesn't make any sense. Why is he smiling?_

"I shouldn't have done that," I try to recover, "I was just, I just thought you'd…" I don't know how to make this better. "I'm so sorry."

I realize his hands are cupping my face. "Katniss," he says.

"What?"

"Don't be sorry."

"What?"

"Don't be sorry."

I don't understand what is going on. "But I shouldn't have done that!"

"Why not?"

He's grinning. I feel like I'm about to die and he's grinning. I open my mouth and search for the words to explain. "Because…" I fumble, "because I…because you…"

"Katniss?"

"Yes?"

"Do you want to kiss me again?"

"Yes," I admit, a bit sheepishly,

"Then shut up and kiss me."

I'm caught completely off guard. I was preparing myself to hear that he doesn't think of me that way. For his rejection. Instead, Gale pulls me to him. Our lips lock and move fervently against the others'. Softly at first. Sweetly. And then deeply and passionately. I realize that while my lips have may have touched others in the past, this is my first, true kiss.

I don't know how much time passes by. Gale's lips are soft and warm and I like the way he touches me. One hand cupping my face, flicking my ear as he pushes my hair back; the other, supporting and somehow caressing my back. He moves it slowly, gently. It excites me. Everything is perfect. I'm lost in a haze of taste and touch.

That is, until I start thinking.

_Does he like this?_

_Do I like this?_

_I like this._

_What are we doing?_

_What does this mean?_

_I need to keep kissing him._

_Does he want me to keep kissing him?_

_Wait, where should I put my hands?_

_What will we bring back to Sylvie?_

These thoughts that tangle my mind. I'm no longer in the moment with Gale. No longer in the thrill. The rush.

"Oh, Katniss," he breathes heavily. His hot breath touches my ear. His lips brush past my ear.

My skin rises as he says this and I feel a warmness rising with in me, pulling me back to him. I move closer to Gale and let his voice drown out the one in my head. My lips return to his frantically. Suddenly, I'm not thinking about kissing Gale anymore, I'm just doing it. And it's wonderful.

_I really like this,_ I think, pulling myself over top of him.

"Oh, Katniss!" He repeats. I feel myself sizzle again. But something seems different this time. "Ow, Katniss…" This time he groans. And painfully.

"Oh my god, Gale!" In the heat of the moment, i totally forgot about his wounds. "You're hurt! I wasn't thinking."

"No, its okay," he says, pulling me back to him and shifting slightly, "just got to find a different position." He nears my lips to his.

"Gale, no, you're hurt! What were we thinking?"

I pull myself away from him and sit at his side. He has a gash on his face, but it doesn't look deep. There's a bit of blood and gravel mixed in. His one arm is also scratched and it looks like it will be deeply bruised, maybe sprained. Again, the wounds don't look too severe, but he's got several cuts and scrapes. A few are bleeding. There are tears in his pants, which tells me his jeans have suffered a similar fate, if not worse since he landed on them.

"Oh, Gale," I say with concern.

"It's nothing, Katniss, I'm fine." He reaches for my face again.

I fret my brow and challenge Gale, swatting his hand away. "How can you be thinking about that right now? Now let me see your arm."

"Katniss, do you have any idea how long I've waited to-oww!"

I'd grabbed his arm and stretch it out. He grimaces. "How badly does that hurt?"

"It's not broken," he says, but his words betrayed his anguish.

I touch it gently, to make sure nothing feels broken or out of place. I try to wipe the dirt out of his gash and then slowly move each of his fingers, all of which feel fine, and then roll his wrist. He grimaces again. "It's your wrist."

He breathes deeply and only nods.

"What about your side?"

"Bruised ribs, probably."

I move to pull up his shirt. I can see the scratch marks dabbled in blood. As I pull it off his shoulders careful not to hurt him, he starts to laugh. I stare at him like he's gone mad. "What's so funny?" I almost accuse.

"It's nothing," he says between sighs of pain and laughter. But my eyes don't let him go. "It's just," he tries to explain, "you taking off my shirt after what we just…" He chuckles and then moans in pain. "I was just thinking…" My eyes hold his, still not comprehending.

"I had to take off your shirt! How else would I tend your wounds?"

Gale sighs again and shakes his head. He opens his mouth, but says nothing, clearly reconsidering. "You're clearly not thinking the same thing I'm thinking."

My eyes tell him I still don't understand, but he doesn't give in. So I return to his injuries. His side is already bruising, deep and dark, he's probably broken a few. I press against them slowly. He inhales sharply and doesn't move. This clearly hurts a lot. I take one of our water bottles and dampen a clean part of his removed shirt. I try to clean the scrapes on his ribs and his arm. Once cleaned, I move to his forehead. My face moves close to his as I gently pull the gravel and grass from the cut. I'm so close I can feel his eyes on me, feel his breath as it touches my neck, and I suddenly remember that we were kissing a few minutes ago and we'd never done that before. And now there's this silence. It's awkward. And for some reason I think talking will make it less so.

"So," I begin, dabbing his now clean wound, "That thing..."

"Yes?"

"You know," I'm staring at his face trying to look anywhere but his eyes, searching for another wound to clean and something to say, but all his wounds are tended to so I just wipe some of the dirt off his brow. "You know, that we were doing before…"

"You mean kissing?"

"I guess."

"Unless you're talking about the hunting?"

"No."

"So the kissing?"

"Yeah."

"Us kissing?"

"If that's what you want to call it," I look at him sheepishly. "I just want you to know I wasn't really thinking…"

"No kidding."

"I was scared and it was so sudden and I thought you might have been dead…" I'm starting to fumble. "Because you know, you fell off that cliff…"

"I did."

"...So, you know I kissed you…"

"You did."

"…Yeah…I guess. I was just wasn't thinking. I was so worried and caught up…."

"Katniss, you realize I kissed you too?"

"Yes. Of course." What am I trying to say? "I just….I guess….I just want you to know you didn't have to."

"Katniss," he laughs, and he slowly pulls himself up so he's sitting more upright. My eyes get large as I worry, uncertain what he's doing or what he's going to say. "Katniss," he repeats, taking my hand in his. My heart begins to quiver. This is getting serious. He stares at me intently. "You really don't have any idea, do you?"

"What?" If I weren't so nervous, I'd be insulted.

"How long I've wanted to do that? How many times I've thought about…How many times I've had to stop myself…" He's starting to struggle with his words. "All the things I've—All the times I've—All the…?" He continues to fumble.

I stare at him like he's speaking another language, not quite comprehending.

"Gale, are you okay? Did you hit your head?" I'm beginning to worry about his attempts at labored speech.

"God, Katniss, No! I mean, yes, I did, but…but no, that's not why…that's not why I'm…Katniss… I've…I've wanted…you…I've wanted this…" he stops trying to explain. He takes my face in his hand and kisses me. It's passionate, almost desperate, and I like it.

"So, you mean, does this mean, you like me?" I blurt out after what have been minutes

"Like you, Katniss?" Gale is still exasperated, "Katniss, I l—" he pauses, "Yes, Katniss. I like you a lot."

"Then why didn't you ever say anything?" My question is honest. Gale practically rolls his eyes.

He laughs again. My eyes demand a response. "You're serious?" I pull away from him and nod. "Katniss, you told me not to!"

"When?" I'm incredulous.

"Well, you told me that you never wanted a husband, family or kids about a thousand times since I've met you." That is true, I realize, but also, kind of irrelevant. "You also said you never wanted a boyfriend and that you thought that having one was, and I quote, 'a waste of time and gross…'"

"That was at least a year ago!" I interrupt. Though that is also true.

"You've also said romance is stupid and love is a waste of time. And you explicitly told me when you climbed into my room after I found you in the woods that you didn't want anyone to like you or touch you at all. Ever."

I guess he's right about that. "Well, yeah…." I fumble. "I…" My mouth hangs open as I try to explain. "Why did you listen to me?"

Gale just smiles. He leans in and kisses me again. "I kind of figured that this was important for you to figure out yourself."

And as we lose ourselves in each other again, I think he was right.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I want to deeply thank all of you who've taken the time to respond and review. Especially those of you who've left detailed comments. It means so much to me! When I know what's working best, it helps me keep writing. I also want to let you know that I really struggled writing this chapter, I must have written about four different versions, so I'm desperate to know what you think and would be eternally grateful to anyone who's willing to let me know what they think about the evolution of Gale and Katniss's relationship. I struggled to get both of them and it just right.
> 
> I also want to assure you I've some some pretty exciting things planned for the next few chapters. I'm excited to get them out to you and hear what you all think :)

"Sylvie is probably worrying about us," I finally say to Gale, who is dozing in my arms.

He makes an indistinguishable sound. It's unclear if he agrees with me.

"We should probably head back soon."

He mumbles again.

"Gale?" I start to shake him until he opens his eyes. He wraps his uninjured arm around me and pulls me down to him. I put my hands out to stop him. "Don't you care?"

"Honestly?"

"Gale! We've got to get back." Our eyes meet and he knows I'm right.

I fashion a sling out of his torn shirt and secure it around his neck to cradle his wounded arm and find a sturdy walking stick. With it, he seems to handle himself pretty well. I know the long journey back will be a challenge on him, though I doubt he'll confess his suffering.

We're both sad to leave the deer meat behind, but there's no way either of us could carry it. I remind myself to keep my eyes alert for smaller prey as we begin our trek.

I try to make this task occupy my mind, but it's hard to concentrate. I can't stop thinking about Gale. About what we just did. And about what it all means. My mind is almost dizzy with thoughts.

_What did I just do?_

_I just kissed Gale. I kissed my best friend. I kissed him a lot._

_Are we still best friends?_

_What does this mean?_

_Does Gale really like me?_

_Why does he like me?_

_Is that why he's out here?_

_What does he want from me?_

_Did everything just change?_

"Tell me what's bothering you." Gale interrupts the torrent in my mind.

"What?"

"I know that look on your face, Catnip. Something's bothering you. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Well—I gue—I mean—not really—I'm not—" I gargle incoherent words. Gale's look is something between amusement and concern. I take a moment to figure out what I want to know. "So is this…is this why you're out here?" I ask after a stretch of silence.

"What?"

"Is this why you're out here?" I repeat, gesturing to the woods around me.

"Oh, I heard you. I just don't know how you think I'm going to answer that question."

I stop and swing around and look at him not understanding. "With words?"

"No, Catnip," he says, shaking his head and chuckling. "I mean, I don't understand what you're asking."

And I realize that Gale wasn't privy to my internal monologue though he clearly knew I was having one.

"Is the only reason you're out here…Because you wanted to be with me?"

Gale takes a deep breath, almost as if he's inhaling my question. He shifts his weight as he considers my question. He finally nods. "That depends what you're asking. The answer is both yes and no."

Now who's the one being confusing.

"On one hand, yes, I'm only out here because of you." My face must betray my alarm because Gale quickly continues. "But it's not what you're thinking. I'm not out here because I want to be with you. I'm not chasing you through the forest because I'm hopelessly in love or on the off chance it'll get me laid. But yes, I'm still out here because of you. Because someone had to get you away from twelve, away from the Capitol because you're important to the rebellion and the rebellion is important."

I stop and stare at him not quite certain how to respond. At first, I was nervous about the prospect that Gale might only be here because he liked me. It made me feel pressured or responsible or something. But now? I'm a little taken aback by his, I'm not sure what the right word is, _professionalism?_ His measured, certain response makes dozens of more questions fly through my head.

"I'm doing it because I care about the rebellion and because I care about you. I'm also doing it because it needs to be done, and because I'd rather be doing this than working in the mines. And honestly, I'm doing it because I don't know if I could've handled anyone else being out here with you and not me." Gale's studying my face as he says all of this, he's gray eyes searching mine. I can't help but wonder what they see.

"So…you're doing this for the rebellion? Or you're doing this for me?"

"Now don't go doing that, Catnip. Questions like that will get you in trouble. But I suppose if you really want an answer, I'm doing it for me."

My eyes must widen in complete incomprehension because that concept is completely foreign to me. Gale registers my look.

"You don't owe me, Katniss."

"What?" I don't understand why he's telling me this.

"That's what you're trying to figure out. Why I'm out here, because if you think I'm out here for you, you'll think you'll owe me. And I won't have that."

My nostrils flare as my first instinct is combative. _What does he think he is to tell me what to do or how to be?_ " _You won't have that_?" My tone is challenging. "Who do you think you're talking to, Gale? You don't get to tell me what to think or what to do."

"That's just it, Katniss, I'm not." He smiles as he says this, which pisses me off more. "I'm saying that's what you get to do." He steps closer to me, taking my hand in his and looking seriously into my eyes. "You get to think for yourself. You get to do what you want—and because you want to. Not because you think you owe anybody."

I open my mouth to challenge, to protest, but I'm not sure what to say. Half formed questions swarm my mind mixed with my piqued rage, and while I'm still inclined to contest Gale, what he said is sinking in.

"There's only one question you need to ask yourself, Katniss." He raises his hand to my cheek. "And I know you well enough to know it's the only one you haven't asked yourself."

My eyes don't leave his, waiting for his response. He's silent longer than I expect, and I can't help but wonder if it's because he's hoping I'll figure it out for myself. I don't.

"Do you like me, Katniss?"

* * *

The sun is setting by the time we get back to Sylvie's. Not long before we approached the house, I shot down a several squirrels so we wouldn't show up empty handed. As we approach the clearing near Sylvie's house, I hear a trill.

"Did you hear that, Gale?"

He nods.

"Quail?"

"Maybe a grouse."

"Wait here," I tell him, as I set down the squirrels I had twined over my back. I quietly slink off in the direction of the sound. I survey the land, trying to figure out where they are most likely to be roosting. My eyes scan the low light for the slightest movement, my ears strain for their next sound. Then I see it. The tall meadow grass moves lightly. I'd think it were the wind if it wasn't such a small, isolated area. I grab a stone from nearby and toss it with all my might where I saw the movement. Dozens of birds immediately leap from the ground. I'm able to get three before the flock has disappeared.

"Impressive," Gale says as I return to him holding my bounty. I see he's been fashioning twine as I walk over to him. He holds it up. "I figured this'd make it easier to carry them."

"Thanks."

We both struggle back to Sylvie's house, me with my catch and Gale with his wounds. As soon as we're in eyesight, the children run out to greet us.

"They're here! They're here!" Trek screams.

I notice several small figures piling out of the door, all excitedly running up to us. Sylvie's form soon follows.

"You're back!" But she must notice Gale's limping. "Oh my—are you okay?" She picks up her pace. I hand my hunting to the smaller children when they reach us. "Trek, help take this to the kitchen. Cinda, run back and fetch the medical supplies."

"I'm okay," Gale grunts, adding, "mostly," as Sylvie and I help him back to the porch. Cinda returns with the medical supplies.

"What happened?"

"He fell off a cliff." I say bluntly.

"What? Go get some warm water, Cinda." Sylvie orders again. "How?"

"We were chasing a deer."

"Is anything broken?" Sylvie immediately sets to studying Gale, and she seems to be quite the professional.

Gale shakes his head. "I don't think so."

She reminds me of my mother. She cleans Gale with a soft cloth and the warm water Cinda brings. "This is bad," she says in response to his ribs. We'll need to bind them."

The young children have returned and are peeking out the door on to the porch. "Is he okay?" little Mae asks.

"He will be," Sylvie says to her children, he tone never wavering once. "I just need to patch him up a bit."

Sylvie proceeds to stitch a few of the deeper lacerations on his arm and binds his torso so his ribs are protected. She also spends a lot of time cleaning and bandaging his knees, which have been made all the worse after the walk home. When she finishes, she asks me to take Gale to bed.

"Is Gale joining us for dinner?" Trek asks.

"No, Gale needs to rest."

"But I wanted him to tell me all about hunting!"

"He can do that later," she says, "let's start making dinner." Her children follow her into the kitchen as I take Gale to our room.

"How are you feeling," I ask as I try to help make him comfortable by putting pillows under his knees and situating his back.

"I'm alright, Catnip."

I sit by his side and brush his hair from his face. Our eyes meet and it makes me nervous. I know he wants to kiss me, and I'm not sure what I should do, so I look away. My eyes move from one wound to the next. "Can I get you anything?"

"I'm alright, Catnip."

I feel tears filling my eyes, so I force myself to look away. I'm not certain what's come over me, but suddenly I feel the full impact of the day's events: memories of our lives back at Twelve, before the game, our easy conversation, us being best friends…the possibility of losing Gale, believing for a moment that I did…Discovering that I hadn't and that I have feelings for him…feelings for him in a way beyond just being best friends…feelings that I don't quite yet understand…and feelings that risk me losing him in another whole way.

"Katniss?" Gale takes my face in his hand, forcing me to look at him. There's the air of a question in his voice and I suddenly can't stop. The tears begin to pour. "Katniss," he pulls me to him and I curl up at his side, resting my head on his shouldn't and listening to the strong, even beat of his heart. He doesn't say anything for minutes as I sob.

"I don't want to lose you, Gale," I finally say, pulling myself up to look at him. He meets me with an easy smile.

"You won't, Katniss, I prom—"

"Don't say that, Gale, don't make me a promise you can't keep. Didn't today teach you that?" My voice gets higher and almost cracks as I say that. "You can't promise me you won't die…out in the woods and especially as we're marching off to start a rebellion. And don't you realize that this," I gesture to the space in between us, or whatever is going on in that space in between us, "this is just another different way I could lose you?"

Gale's body stiffens and the light blinks from his eyes.

We both know we're walking a very dangerous line.

* * *

Gale is silent for several minutes. I can almost hear the gears in his mind turning as he considers what I've just said. Gale is strong, and stubborn, and I know he's searching for a counterargument. But as the moments continue to tick by, I think he knows I'm right.

This is not the time explore a romantic relationship. We're on a mission, we have to get to Thirteen and start a rebellion. And that'll be dangerous and exhausting and we'll need to give it our full attention. And even if we didn't, we're best friends, and that's a relationship I'd never want to risk losing, and if being with Peeta taught me anything, it was that romance was makes things complicated and you can't ever go back to the way things were before. And I can't have that.

I've thought this through seriously, and I'm ready to counter whatever point Gale has to offer as he opens his mouth to argue with me.

"Alright," he says carefully, nodding his head and leaning back on the pillows propped up on the bed, "I understand where you're coming from and will respect whatever decision you make, Katniss, but before you do, I just need you to tell me one thing. And I need you to answer honestly and carefully."

"Of course," I say, even though I've already made my decision.

"Do you like me?"

"What? Gale, of course I like you. You're my be—"

He doesn't let me avoid the question. "No, Katniss, I mean, do you _like_ me."

I huff, almost irritated. "That's not the point." _Why can't he just agree with me and let this go?_ I stare deep into his gray eyes, eyes the same color as a storm-strewn sky and just as full of lightening. Something in there is sparking. I can't let it spread to me.

"That's…um…that's not the point." I try to recover my resolve.

"Then what is?"

"That I can't, Gale, I can't!" My voice cracks and there are so many emotions running through me, I feel dizzy, almost sick, and he looks concerned. "That I can't risk liking things when so much needs to be done. That I don't even know how to like things because so much needs to be done. And I need to focus on doing. Because we have to get to Thirteen, start a rebellion, fight the Capitol, and save our families…and to be able to do all of that, I have to stay focused and in control. That's how I survive. That's how I survived before the Games and that's how I survived during the Games, and that's how we'll survive this."

I speak quickly as I say all this, almost tripping over my words, perhaps even running from them, and I realize I'm working to convince myself more than Gale. And that I'm doing so because I do like Gale. I like him so much it hurts. I like him so much it's dangerous.

As I enumerate the numerous reasons why we shouldn't pursue a relationship – the dangers, the uncertainty, the distractions – I can't stop looking in to Gale's gray eyes, I can't stop thinking about how I always want to look into those gray eyes, and then I think about how I want to fall into his strong arms and kiss his warm lips, and I don't even know what I'm saying, but I keep telling Gale I can't even though I'm thinking that I want this so badly and it scares me. I'm lost in his gray eyes until only grayness surrounds me. I'm drowning in all the unknown and in betweens…in between Twelve and Thirteen…in between loving Gale as a friend or something more…in between being the Capitol's puppet and a rebellion's hero…Hell, I'm even in between being alive and dead at the moment. I'm in a universe of gray and I think it might be killing me. I realize I need something to hold on to, something I need to know for sure. And then I realize the answer is quite literally staring me in the face: Gale.

I kiss him. I kiss him deeply and frantically and wildly.

"Katniss," he pulls himself away, his arm struggling to keep me apart and not from my weight, "are you sure?"

"What?" I just want to keep kissing him.

"Are you sure?" And I vaguely recall that I spent the half hour prior to this telling him that I did not, in fact, want this.

"No." I say with a smile and his brow wrinkles with worry. "I'm not certain I want a relationship with you…I'm not sure what that means because I never thought about it before today…I'm not certain a relationship is a good idea, and I'm not certain we'll even live to see tomorrow or that when the rebellion comes it'll even matter. I don't know much, Gale Hawthorne, but right now what I know is you. So to answer your question, yes, I like you. I like you a lot. I like who you are and what you do. And I like this," I gesture to our kissing, "I like it more than I've liked anything. Perhaps ever. And I want it. I don't know why yet because this is all so new, but I do. And that scares me, and it might be stupid, and I don't know, but there's a lot I don't know and you're going to have to be patient while I figure it out and you're going to have to help me figure it out, but if there's one thing I know it's that we work well together, so if I'm going to take a risk on something, it might as well be this…" As I keep rambling I slowly realize that Gale's smiling. "What?" I finally ask.

"Nothing…it's just…" He laughs, "I think you've made your point."

"Oh…"

"So, I'm just waiting for you to finish so I can kiss you again." His grin grows wider.

"Oh, well, why didn't you say so?" I leaning in to kiss him again and our lips and arms entwine.

I let out a small laugh in surprise and am excited by its rush. I tenderly look down at his face as I caress it. In this moment, I feel that everything is right.

* * *

I awake before Gale does the next morning and quietly pull myself out of the bed.

"I was wondering when you'd get up." She smiles at me, "did you sleep well?"

"Yes," I answer honestly as I take my seat at the table.

Sylvie puts a plate of food in from of me. "How's Gale?"

"He needs rest," I tell Sylvie, "because of his injuries." _And we didn't exactly go to sleep early last night,_ I think to myself. I almost wonder if Sylvie can read my thoughts because she's looks at me knowingly.

"Of course. You just let me know if there's anything I can do."

"Yeah," I say a bit sheepishly. I think I might be blushing. "Is there anything I can do for you today?" I ask between mouthfuls of food.

"Oh, you can stay in and tend to Gale if you want to."

She can definitely read my thoughts. I gulp uncomfortably. "Really, I want to help," I say earnestly.

Sylvie picks up her baby and nods. "That's very kind of you. I truly appreciate your help."

I nod, "it's the least we can do. Plus, I know it must be hard. Being out here, all by yourself."

"It is," Sylvie says, and there's a note of gravity in her voice I've never detected before. "Especially when Cott's gone."

I munch on my food awkwardly for a moment and watch her bounce the baby Brook on her knee. "Can I…can I ask, why do you do it?" She looks up at me. "I mean, stay out here, all alone, with your family. Why don't you guys go to Thirteen?" I didn't even realize I had this question in my head before I said it.

Sylvie surveys me carefully, "every life comes with its own set of problems. The trick is to figure out which ones you can deal with." Her gaze has returned to her infant son and she doesn't elaborate, so I'm left to wonder.

I make my way outside and find the youngest children toiling in the garden. I offer my help with Trek happily accepts. He's trying to plant some vegetables and Glennie and May are digging the holes. Though they are doing so haphazardly, with no particular pattern or consistency.

"How's Gale?" He asks as I lean down to help him.

"He's fine," I realize how cute it is that he looks up to Gale. "He's just resting."

"He said he'd teach me how to make a bow."

"He did," I say a bit exaggeratedly because this is how I think I should talk to children. "Do you know who taught Gale how to make a bow?" His eyes tell me no. "I did." I say, smugly.

"Wow. Really?"

"Yep. And I can teach you too, if you like."

"Please!"

After we finish with the vegetables, I start to tell Trek how to make a bow. He hangs on every word I say. It took him a few tries, but we finally made a very basic one. "Now," I say after I finished fletching a few arrows, "do you want to learn to shoot." Things become comfortable and easy teaching Trek, and I realize I've lost all the anxiety I felt before around the children. Even Glennie and May come over to watch and I don't mind. I fashion them all simple, toy boys, and watch them struggle to shoot. If I think about it, I realize I'm having fun.

"Very good!" I say, "you're going to be a pro at this," I tell Trek, messing his hair. He beams at me. "I bet you worked up an appetite doing all this, what do you way we clean up and have lunch?"

The children run inside and I following them. Willow and Cinda are making the food when I come in.

"Katniss helped us plant all the vegetable!" May squeals to her mom.

"Really?" Sylvie picks up the little girl and spins her around. I'd normally wonder where she got all the energy to deal with the small kids, but after playing with them outside, I realized for the first time that they gave her the energy. I smile as I watch the tender moment.

"Any word from Gale?"

Sylvie shakes her head. "I checked in on him an hour ago. He was still sound asleep."

"I'll go check again." I head to our room and silently open the door. The midday light is streaming in and I wonder when's the last time Gale ever slept this late in his life. I sit down next to him and touch his face fondly. "Hey, you," I say softly. He grunts a slight sound of comprehension. "It's time to get up," I whisper by his ear. He stirs more noticeably this time. "Come on, Gale, get up…" I playfully tug at the sheets by his face.

"Okay, okay," he grumbles. "I'm getting up." He tries to stretch, but his face tells me that the pain catches his sore, tight muscles. He winces noticeably. Half groggy, he asks, "what's for breakfast?"

"Not breakfast," I say, and he looks at me quizzically, "you slept through breakfast, it's time for lunch." His eyes widen in surprise.

"Wow. Really?"

"Yep. Now come on, it's ready." I start to get up when Gale pulls me back down and kisses me. We stay locked for a minute before he breaks away.

"Good morning.".

I feel his words touch my neck and like it. "Good afternoon," I pull away looking down at him. He caresses me softly and gets up.

The children squeal with excitement when they see Gale stir. Trek has the most to say, and he bombards Gale with questions about the hunt and excitedly tells him about our shooting lesson. He doesn't even stop to breath, much less let Gale answer and of his questions, but I figure the answering is far less important. The rest of the mean is quiet and comfortable and I don't even realize Gale has his arm around the back of my chair until I realize Cinda is glaring at it. My eyes quickly dart to her face and then everyone else's. Sylvie's tells me she could definitely read my mind in the morning. My first reaction is to push Gale away and be uncomfortable. We shouldn't be seen like this. But I suddenly realize I'm not uncomfortable and that we can be seen like this, so I own up to the moment and put my hand on Gale's knee.

Gale indulges the children for the rest of the afternoon, playing with them and telling stories. Sylvie checks Gale's wounds at one point and I help out as much as I can and even join in the playing too. Gale notices my new-found comfort with the children and smiles. We have another pleasant dinner. Gale and I help with the cleaning while Sylvie corrals her children off to bed. "I can see why you like this," I tell him.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I agree, taking in our cozy surroundings and the happy family. This would not be a bad life, I think.


	24. Chapter 24

The following week follows a similar pattern. I help Sylvie and the children around the house while Gale sleeps in and regains his strength, which I eagerly test when it turns to night. Just when when I thought Gale and I couldn't possible be any closer, or learn more about the other, we discover our bodies.

I'm careful about where I put my hands so I don't aggravate any of his wounds and he's cautious about where he puts his as we start, forcing himself not to go too far, which I like though I can't help but wish that sometime his reach would go a little bit farther.

"Gale," I say between kisses, "should we talk about this?"

"What's there left to talk about?" he breathes. Clearly, his lips would rather be doing something other than talking. His voice is heavy and heady and I realize he's probably not really listening. And as much as I enjoy what we're doing, there's a part of me that's nervous about where this all is going.

"You remember I said I'm not sure about some things…"

"Yes, Katniss, and it's okay," He caresses my cheek softly as he says this, trying to reassure me. "I'm uncertain about some things too. I don't expect–"

I cut him off because I don't think we're talking about the same thing. "I'm not ready to have sex with you."

His mouth hangs open for a second, surprised. And then he laughs. "I know, Katniss."

"You do?"

He chuckles. "I mean, considering how long it took you figure out you wanted to kiss me-" I laugh and lean in to kiss him. He's always able to make me feel at ease. I can't even remember what I was nervous about. "I'm never going to pressure you to do anything you don't want to. You just tell me what you like, what you want and when you're ready." I nod as he rubs my back reassuringly. "And try not to wait until I almost die again to figure out how you feel about me, okay?"

"Ha, I'll try. We should probably talk about this more, shouldn't we?"

"Probably," he agrees. I take a deep breath and begin thinking about what I want to say. "But let's do that tomorrow," he says playfully, catching me off guard and pulling me up on his chest to kiss me again.

* * *

I'm a bit surprised when I realize I'm sad to leave Sylvie and the kids. Their small faces surround us, begging us not to go.

"But why do you have to leave?" Trek, the most upset by our departure, pleads.

"Because we have some very important things to do," Gale tells him, crouching down to his level and tapping his nose.

Trek only frowns. "But why?"

Gale squeezes his shoulders affectionately. "Because we've got to go make the world a better place."

And I was going to say we had to go kill people and start a war.

"Now, now, it'll be okay," Sylvie assures her children, pulling the smallest ones close to her. "And anyway, we've got to clean up and make room, your father will be home soon." The smallest look up at her, somewhat reassured. "Now remember," Sylvie speaks to us now, "it'll take you about three days to get to Topaz and Boon's," she's already told me all about our next hosts who are actually related to her husband. "They'll be happy to see you. And please remember to give them that letter I gave you." There's an urgency in her voice both Gale and I pick up on, as this is the third time she's reminded us. When we asked about it before, she didn't elaborate, so we let it go.

"It could be a family matter," Gale suggested. I nodded uncomfortably.

"You should have more than enough supplies..." She continue, and both Gale and I nod and thank her profusely as we gather all our things. We say goodbye to the children a few more times, and finally, start to walk away, waving.

Neither of us says anything until the choir of small, departing voices fades away.

"You meant what you told Trek, didn't you?"

"What?"

"About making the world a better place."

"Oh, of course I do, Catnip. Don't you?"

I have to pause and think. "I guess I just never thought of it that way….."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." I nod. "I was mostly just thinking about how much I want to kill Snow."

Gale looks down at me and smiles. "Well, that's good too."

I smile back at him, but an idea is starting to get tangled in my head. "We'll be able to do it, won't we?" I've never really thought about the logistics before.

"Kill Snow?"

"I mean all of it. Start the rebellion. Win the war?"

Gale answers almost too quickly. "Of course. I mean, the rebellion's practically already started. And when you come back, and help inspire the districts to unite and get help of Thirteen, which is armed, then yes, I do think we can win the war."

"And that will make the world a better place? I mean, a lot of people will probably die, won't they?"

"Yes. Some will. But a lot of people are already dying..."

I can't deny that. But sometimes I wonder if Gale really realizes the horror and how it affects you...and I remember what it was like to be in the Games...and wonder how much worse a war will be.

"...and the Capitol's tyranny has got to end. It will end." I wonder how he can be so certain about all of this. I'm lost in a sea of doubt. But Gale's certainly is one of the things I like most about him.

"What do you think Thirteen will be like?"

Gale's silent for a moment as he thinks. "That, I don't know. They've been in hiding for decades, probably scraping by and struggling to survive, living in constant fear of the Capitol…"

"So it'll be like Twelve?" For some reason this is funny to me. I laugh and Gale looks at me strangely. "What was the point then, of being free if it's just the same?"

A shadow of concern crosses Gale's face. It's clear he doesn't see the humor. "It's not the same, Katniss. They're free. They don't have to work like slaves or send their children into the Games."

There's an intensity starting to flare in his eyes, and I remember how he used to rage about the Capitol back home, so I decide to change the subject.

"How do you think our families are doing?"

"I'm sure they're fine."

"Do you think we'll get to see them soon?"

"Yeah. I'm sure we can arrange to bring them safely to Thirteen before the rebellion starts."

Excited about the prospect of seeing my sister again, I quicken my pace.

* * *

"This way," Gale points ahead as he checks the map, "the machine said the water should be this way."

I wipe the sweat off my brow and take another long drink from my bottle. We've been hiking for almost two days straight, and it's getting incredibly hot. I swipe the thick branches out of my way and trudge forward.

"It should be just over this hill."

"It better be," I huff, not happy about the climb and longing to splash some water on my face.

Gale makes it to the top of the ridge before I do and when I get there, I'm shocked.

"Oh my god, Gale!"

It's one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen, I almost think it can't be real. I must have seen dozens of forest ponds and wild pools in my life, but this one is somehow perfect. The small lake is cradled along the edge of the forest by a field dotted with wildflowers. The water is some how both green and blue at once and a light breeze is rustling through making everything shimmer like gold or jewels and the water tinkle like music.

"Come down with me, my lady?" Gale asks with a mock accent, extending his hand like a gentleman. My eyes meet his with a smile, and I think I might be blush as I take his arm and he escorts me to the water's edge.

"It's so beautiful," I say as I set down my pack, still taking the scenery in. I'm about to ask Gale if he wants to go for a swim when he catches me off guard.

"Ah! No!" I scream as I hit the water. "Gale," I spit as I surface, "that wasn't funny!" But the big, stupid grin on his face tells me he disagrees. I splash at him, upset. But he swims over and grabs my hands. I try and wriggle away from him. "Say you're sorry!" Gale just laughs and shakes his head. "You got all my clothes wet!"

"I guess you'll just have to take them off then," he says with a mischievous twinkle.

"Ha," I see the sparkle in his eyes, "not unless you say you're sorry." I splash water at his face still trying to uphold my look of anger. Gale just chuckles and reaches for me again. I dart out of his way this time and a look of victory crosses my face. "Say you're sorry."

"Nope."

I shake my head and him him a scolding look. "You even got my boots wet." But his gaze is unflinching. "You're not going to apologize are you?"

He reaches for me again. "You know I won't," his tone is playful, but I know his sentiment is not. Gale never apologizes for doing what he thinks is right. And he always does what he thinks is right. Even when it's hard, when it's dangerous, and even when it pisses me off. And I think that's why I love him.

"Alright, Hawthorne, but you better watch out. I'm going to get you back for this."

"I look forward to it," he says, dodging one of my blows and then lunging for me. I try to swim away, but I'm not quick enough and his reach is too long. He grabs my foot and pulls me to him. I can no longer keep up my scowl. We're both laughing and smiling as we wrestle in the water.

I'm amazed at how he's been able to hold on to this side of himself after everything that he's been through. Losing his father, working in the mines, hell, just growing up in Twelve, and not to mention having to put up with and take care of me. Even after all of it, all the anger and hardship and hurt, he still manages to be playful. He still manages to find fun in this awful, horrible world we live in. And he somehow manages to get me to do it as well. As I splash and play with him in the water, I know that's why I love him.


	25. Chapter 25

"What are you thinking," I ask Gale as I stare at him fondly, tracing the faint outline of his beard. We're reclining on the grassy slope aside the pond as our clothes dry. He on his back and I'm curled by his side. We're both pooled in golden light, warming. I sweetly stroke his cheek and hope I don't have a stupid look on my face as I gaze into his eyes.

"Nothing," he says after a moment, shaking his head and looking down at me. "I guess I was just thinking…I'm happy." He pulls me into a kiss that last a long time. "What were you thinking about?"

I scoot into a sitting position and stretch as I look around. "This place kind of reminds me of our place."

"Our spot in Twelve?"

"Yeah, I mean, when you look down over the valley." I gesture in its direction.

Gale moves up to sit next to me. He wraps one of his strong arms around my back and looks where I've pointed, surveying the land as if he's considering something difficult. "Yeah, I guess," he says, trying to hide a chuckle that catches in his throat, and he shakes his head again. I assume he does not agree with me, but when I look into his gray eyes, I realize I'm wrong. I know exactly what he's thinking about because I'm thinking it too. How could either of us not when we're together here, the way we're together here, in a place like this?

_We could do it, you know. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it._

As I look at him, and I know I can't be the one to say it this time. Because it will be too hard on him to say no. And he'll have to say no because the rebellion is too important, and Gale never turns his back on what is important, no matter what the cost. And I remember that's one of the reasons I love him even though at this moment it hurts me so much. I squeeze him tighter, hoping it will help me gain some of his strength.

"We should probably get going though…soon." Gale doesn't look at me as he says this. I can feel how his body's tense. "Let me check if our clothes are dry." He moves to get up but I stop him and pull him down into another kiss.

He grunts and I can tell he likes it. "You're not going to make this easy on me, are you?" He starts to relax.

"Do I ever?"

"No, that's for sure." We kiss again. "But really, Katniss, we need to cover a few more miles today if we're going to stay on schedule."

"We're more than a week behind schedule, Gale, what's one more day going to matter? Let's stay here. Just for tonight." My eyes twinkle as I look at him, but I wrap my arms and legs around him like I'm desperate. Maybe I am. I don't want this moment to end. Gale's muscles relax and I know he's agreed. I wish I could somehow stop the world and just stay here and live a lifetime in the sun. But I know better than to think the world would stop for anyone, least of all me. But for Gale, with all the uncertainty he's facing and all the hardship he's had, he deserves it. I smile knowing that I can at least give him this: one perfect, golden day.

* * *

We see a column of smoke rising in the distance by the early afternoon of the next day. "See that?" I point, "Think that's their house?"

Gale looks down at the map machine, trying to gauge the distance. "Yeah," he agrees, "that looks about right. I think we'll be there in the hour."

I look up at him and nod before leading the way. I'm eager to get to Topaz and Boone's, and busy myself wondering what they'll be like. What they'll have to say about the rebellion, the Capitol, and Thirteen. Especially since Sylvie was so mysterious. I unconsciously touch her letter in my pocket as I twirl the question in my mind.

"Wait," Gale says as we're getting close.

"What?" I'm not worried about being cautious since these people are friends of Sylvie's. But the look on Gale's face tells me I should be.

"Does something seem…off to you?"

I stop, suddenly alert, and look around. The woods are quiet, perhaps too quiet, and there's a low humming in the distance and in the air, I detect the faint smell of smoke. At first I took the sound to be typical insect chatter, but the more I listen to it, I realize it's not. "Is that…Fire?"

Gale nods solemnly.

"You don't suppose they're having a large bonfire or something?"

Gale shakes his head solemnly and a frown breaks across his face. "If they are, it's an awfully big bonfire."

My eyes tell him I can't help but agree. The hunters in both of us snap on, and in an instant, we each have our weapons drawn. Gale signals to me to move to the left, and we both walk silently, being careful to hide behind trees as we slowly make our approach. The closer we get, the more certain we become: this smoke is not from a bonfire. The air gets heavy and harsher to breath and the sound of flames are roaring. Whatever is burning, it's huge. As we approaching the clearing, we see what we should have known: it's the house. And from the looks of it, it's been burning for a while. Parts are already falling in and the fire is fierce and high. I wonder where the people are. I can only hope they made it to safety and wonder what caused this. But as Gale and I move forward, the answer finds me.

I take one step and hear a crunch. The sound that leaves my throat when I look down is something between a gasp and a shriek. Gale turns to me in alarm. I lift my foot and see the remains of a charred skull, the bones blackened and twisted by heat. It's so small, my boot crushed nearly half of it in. I suddenly realize it belonged to a child.

"Only a Capitol weapon could have done this," I mutter, hand over my lips, both trembling, "fires don't…fires can't do this..."

Gale nods. "We shouldn't be out in the open like this." Gale grabs my arms and we fly to the edge of the forest. We've hardly taken cover when we see the first peacekeepers come around the side of the blazing structure. My arrow is in position as soon as they are. The image of the child's tarred skull still fresh in my mind, I don't hesitate to make my kill, but before I'm able to let my arrow fly, Gale stops me. He pushes my arrow down. I throw him a furious look, wondering what he's thinking. "Up in the tree, Catnip," he says as he bends his knee and curves his hand into a stirrup to help me up.

I throw him an indignant and furious look. If he thinks I'm going to hide in safety why he takes down the peacekeepers on his own, he's got another things coming. I open my mouth to protest, but Gale's silences me.

Even in this crisis, the faintest grin curves his lips. "You'll have a better vantage up there, Catnip," he explains, "it'll be easier to pick them off."

I'm so unbelievably attracted to him in this moment. As my anger quickly dissipates, I realize I'm slightly excited by all this. I lean in to kiss Gale deeply to let him know but quickly. I then sling my bow across my back and make my assent. When I'm securely perched in the tree, I signal down to Gale. I see four peacekeepers, a pair on each side of the house. Gale signals that he understands and moves forward, raising the gun he took off the last Peacekeeper we met in the woods.

Gale's moves are quick and careful. He's positioning himself to try and take out one of the peacekeepers by hand. I lock my arrow on the other, knowing that's what he's intending for me to do. If we can take this pair out silently, we'll have a better chance with the other two. We move almost in unison. As soon as I see Gale grab the first target, my arrow hits the second one. He's down before he can even look in my direction and the other is so confused Gale is easily able to overtake him. His motion is fast and doubtless. I watch Gale snap his neck and the body crumple to the ground. Gale grabs an extra gun from his victim and moves towards the second pair. But as he does so, a shot suddenly fires form somewhere and Gale is forced to take cover. He dives behind a wood pile and I can barely see him. My heart is suddenly hammering, wondering if he's okay, half thinking about jumping from the tree to rush over to him. But I calm myself and force focus. My eyes scan, looking for the source of the bullet, but I only still see the second set of peacekeepers, and I know neither of them made the shot. But while they may not have made it, they certainly heard it, and they too are now aware of Gale's presence. Between the smoke and the branches, I can't make out who shoots first, but they are clearly exchanging fire. My arrow quickly finds one of them, but the other finds cover before I can take him out as well. I've got no good angle, but at least he doesn't now either, and Gale is safe. I take a deep breath, relaxing my shoulders, and start to think about my next course of action when another spray of bullets attack Gale's position. He's forced to run and give up his cover. Now the last peacekeeper is firing on him too. I can't see where Gale is or if he's hurt and I have to force myself not to panic. I hear him firing back, though, so I can only assume that he's found another place to hide. I hear the spray of bullets again. My eyes comb the horizon, looking for the next set of peacekeepers. _Where are you?_ I think, bow arched and ready to kill. The bullets pour again. _Why can't I see where it's coming from?_ I have to force myself to focus, and I realize that this gun fire sounds different. These bullets are coming from a larger weapon than the other peacekeepers'. I hear the exchange from Gale's weapon. _Yes, this is coming from a much larger weapon. But where?_ I close my eyes and wait for the next assault, listening carefully. The bullets fly again. I take a deep breath and collect myself.

I'm in the forest back home. I'm crouching low in a field with my father. He's teaching me how to hunt, and I'm eager to make my first kill.

"Alright, Katniss, you'll never see the birds in a field like this – "

"Then how are we going to shoot them?" I give him a petulant look.

"Patience, Little Duck," he says fondly as he pulls on the brim of my cap, and I scowl unsatisfied. "You can still find the birds. You just have to listen."

The bullets are coming from behind me.

I pivot, eyes searching the forest floor when I hear it. That low, electric rumble I know I've heard before. My gaze slowly drifts upwards. It's a Capitol assultcraft. I've never seen one in person before, but I've seen it on TV. It's smaller than a hovercraft, more agile, and more deadly. But from the sounds of it, it's operating the same way. I pull myself tightly to the tree, terrified for Gale. With this assultcraft in the air, he doesn't stand a chance. I need to do something, and soon. Suddenly, another set of peacekeepers come into the clearing. _Damnit,_ I think, _I've got to save Gale!_ There's no way he can see them from his view, and if they get close and force him to run again….I don't let myself think about how quickly it will cut him down. Gun fire erupts again and one of the new peacekeepers falls. I don't know how Gale made that shot, but it's impressive. There are only two peacekeepers on the ground now, and I'm hoping Gale can take care of those as long as I get rid of this assultcraft. I can just make out the face of one of its pilots through the dense leaves, but he's so close I can see his eyes. My fingers are twitching to let my arrow loose. I have to stop myself, knowing it would never make it through the glass and would only give my position away. They'd be able to blow me away and then move on to Gale. I can't let that happen. I'm seriously wondering if jumping on the window might help. Assultcrafts are smaller than hovercrafts, my weight just might be enough to knock it down, and if not, at least it would disorient them, and give Gale time to find better cover, maybe make a run for it….

I don't even have to tell myself how bad a plan that is because one, I'd never be able to knock an aircraft from the air no matter how badly I want to, and two, Gale would never flee to safety. Not as long as I'm here. My mind races as the assultcraft continues to inch past me. I can practically feel the heat from its exhaust engines radiating over me, it's so close, and I can see its delicate engines burning blue.

Suddenly, I know what I have to do and my arrow is already aimed. _One perfect shot, Katniss, that's all you need,_ I tell myself calmly. _One perfect shot, you'll break the coils, bust the engine, and the whole thing will crash and burn. Then Gale will be able to deal with the peacekeepers on the ground…And he'll be safe._ And that is all that matters. After all the times he's risked his life for mine, all the times he's saved me, _all the ways he saved me_ , I think, remembering the days before, I refuse to fail him now. My eyes narrow on my mark and my fingers follow through. My arrow's already left my bow before I even think about what will happen to me when my arrow hits its target, which it does. The engine's light blinks out and then bursts.

Everything turns white. And then goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I hope you all enjoyed that chapter! As always, I'd love to know what you think. You're comments keep me going and motivate me more than you know to keep writing this. Thank you so much to those of you who do take the time to talk to me.
> 
> I wanted to let you know that this chapter concludes what I imagine to be the second part of the Hunger Games Trilogy. I'll be continuing with my version of the third part, called Into the Flames, which will take the place of Mockingjay much as this story took the place of Catching Fire.
> 
> I hope you all join me as I finish out this series and try to do better justice to Katniss and Gale's characters and their stories. I promise I know where this story is going and there is a lot more action, adventure, and romance on the horizon!
> 
> As I embark on this next chapter of the Hunger Games story, I also would like to ask for any comments and advice on getting my stories read. I don't know much about the fanfiction community, so would be happy for any pointers.
> 
> And, if I can be self-serving for just a moment, I'd also like to ask any of you who like my writing style and my understanding of Gale and Katniss's characters to please check out my short story "Choices." I worked really hard on writing that beautifully and to make sense of their characters and situation from the books. I'd be eternally grateful to anyone who feels like commenting on it to let me know what you think.
> 
> Katniss, Gale, and I will see you all soon.
> 
> Ciao,
> 
> CG


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